J. Blair - The Excalibur Murders

The forest around Camelot was black, nothing but bare branches, and the landscape was still dotted with patches of white. The migratory birds had long since gone, and there seemed to be fewer of the ones who stayed year-round. A few sparrows and cardinals scratched at the roof stones, looking for food. Two of Merlin’s ravens followed him about; the third one had disappeared.

Find the assassin by Midwinter Court: the charge had been repeated more times than Merlin cared to remember. But there was so little to go on-practically nothing but suspicions and obvious motives for too many suspects. Not that Arthur’s wish was a command; he was not that kind of monarch. But there were good reasons for finding the killer as soon as possible. The idea of order must be maintained.

A cloud covered the sun briefly; then it emerged again. Merlin shaded his eyes.

Then from behind him he heard a voice.

“Where are my sons?”

With a start he turned to find Anna just in back of him.

He said hello. “How are you today?”

There were tears streaking her cheeks. “Do you know where my sons are?”

Uncertain what to say, he pretended to study something in the distance. “The air is still a bit chilly, Anna. Shouldn’t you be wearing a cloak?”

“I’ve been cold all my life.” She peered at him. “Where is Arthur?”

He pointed.

“I have to find Borolet and Ganelin. I have something for them. He’ll know where they are.”

It was so awkward. What would be best, to let her delusion continue, or to try and bring her back to reality? To let her disturb the king with this, or to find some way to keep her away from him? He found his resolve and said, “They are not here, Anna. You saw where we took them, remember? ”

She looked confused; her eyes darted about as if trying to focus on something but she was unsure what. “They are here. I sent them to be with the king.”

“No.” He said it gently. “They are gone. Anna, you must remember.”

“The night he made love to me I knew I’d bear him sons. I never told them who their father was, but they guessed.”

“Anna, please.”

“Arthur will take care of them. He is their father, you know. He won’t let any harm come to them.”

It was so futile. And he felt so sorry for her. He wished Brit or Nimue were there; women were so much better at handling these things.

“They will be kings one day themselves, you know. He promised to make them his heirs. But they haven’t been home for so long…” She was fighting back tears; it was plain to see.

“Anna, they were good boys. Bright, helpful, energetic. They were the best; Arthur said so often enough. But they are gone.” One of the ravens flapped onto his shoulder; he brushed it aside and it quickly flew away. He watched it go. “I sometimes envy my birds, do you know that? Their lives are so simple yet so full.”

Arthur broke off wrestling with his squire and moved to join them, with Greffys following behind. From ten yards away he called, “Merlin! Anna! How good to see you both out here on this gorgeous day.”

"Hello, Arthur.” Merlin was grateful for the interruption. “You don’t seem to have worked up much of a sweat.”

“It was only horseplay, not a workout.” He turned to Anna. “Good afternoon, Anna. Are you feeling any better today?”

“No.” The word seemed to weigh a ton. “I’m looking for Ganelin and Borolet. Do you know where they are?” Instead of Arthur, she peered directly at Greffys.

“No, ma’am.” Mildly alarmed, the boy took a few steps backward and pressed himself against the battlement.

“Where are my sons?!” She shrieked it and rushed toward Arthur.

He caught her wrists and steadied her. “Please, Anna. Try and remember what happened, and why I brought you here.”

She pulled free and turned to Merlin. “Where are my boys?” she wailed.

Then suddenly she lunged toward Greffys. “What have you done with them? Where are they hidden?”

He barely managed to step aside, and the madwoman plunged over the edge of the castle roof to the ground below. Her impact made a terrible sound. As she had rushed past him, Greffys was knocked off balance and nearly fell himself, but Arthur caught him by the arm and steadied him. The boy clung to Arthur frantically; it was clear Anna had been trying to push him.

Merlin and Arthur moved quickly to the edge and looked to the courtyard below. Anna was lying in a pool of blood, not moving. People were beginning to gather round her. Gawain looked up and saw the king; then he spread his arms wide apart and shook his head. The woman was dead. It was over that abruptly.

Arthur turned his back on the scene. “Good God, Merlin. Not another one.”

Merlin watched the activity below, hoping she might show some sign of movement, but there was none.

“Three. Three deaths now, Merlin. The man who killed her sons killed her, too.”

“She was out of her mind, Arthur.” He spoke softly. “Something would have-she would have-”

“She was always a bit mad. But not like this. The killer pushed her to it. Three deaths are on his head now. Find him, Merlin. Find him and deliver him to my justice.”

The next day, the second of Merlin’s ravens disappeared. It flew off in the morning, seemingly healthy and happy, then… simply didn’t return. The third and last of them perched on his shoulder that night as Merlin sat in front of the fire, thinking about the killings again and again.

Anna’s death had unsettled him. Not that he hadn’t seen death before; Arthur had fought too many battles for that to be possible. But the conviction that it was self-willed and not an accident-that madness could lead to a yearning for release from life-that bothered Merlin. Even if she had managed to push Greffys, she would have gone with him.

He reached up and idly stroked the bird on his shoulder. Unexpectedly, it nuzzled him and rubbed his cheek with the top of its head. It was the first time any of his pets had ever shown him special affection beyond the mere fact of staying with him when there were other choices.

“There, there,” he whispered. “We’re not alone. We have each other, sweet thing.”

Someone knocked at the door. He wanted not to be bothered that night, but he got up, crossed to the door and opened it. “Greffys.”

The squire looked tired. He was wearing a shoulder bag. “Good evening, sir. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“I’m not busy at all. My little bird and I were just sitting and thinking.”

“Oh. Should I-?”

“No, come in. How are you feeling?”

“Still shaken, I’m afraid.” Suddenly he seemed self-conscious. “Oh-don’t tell anyone I said that, will you, please? I’m training to be a knight. We’re not supposed to-”

“Don’t give it another thought. What can I do for you?”

He shuffled his feet, still feeling awkward. “The king asked me to come.”

“I see. Is there some message?”

“Not exactly, sir. I have this-”

“Sit down, please. Make yourself comfortable. Would you like some wine?”

“Thank you, no. I just ate.”

Merlin resumed his seat. The raven had not left his shoulder all this time. “I was just thinking that I really ought to give my pet a name. Do you have any ideas?”

“No, sir, I’m afraid not. Everyone says I never have any ideas.”

“Do you?”

The boy shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not sure what it would feel like to have one.”

“Not very pleasant, to tell you the truth. There are times when I wish…” He looked away; it was his turn to feel self-conscious.

“Oh. Then I guess I must have a lot of them.”

Merlin leaned his head toward the raven and it nuzzled him again. “Hmm… what about ‘Roc’?”