J. Blair - The Pendragon Murders

“If it is plague that did him in, I cannot say. But we must not be hasty in our conclusions.”

“You’ve described the plague to me time and again. John showed all the symptoms, the red marks, the fever, the hallucinations…”

“Yes.” Merlin fell silent and would say no more.

“Where is Simon?”

“Your majordomo fled like a frightened hare.” Morgan did not try to disguise her pleasure at this. “He was the first to take to his heels.”

“Why don’t you go back inside the castle, Sister, and stop trying to annoy everyone?” Suddenly her presence there struck him. “You are not to come with us on this journey, Morgan. You have too many partisans out there in the hinterland. I want you here at Camelot, where I can keep you under surveillance.”

Morgan laughed at him. “I should go, anyway. With the plague threatening us, I should go to my sanctuary and pray. For England.”

“You are to remain here at Camelot.”

She smiled. “Of course. Whatever the king wishes.”

Mordred followed her out of the carriage, and the two of them headed back inside the castle.

Peter finally found the resolve to join the others. “Merlin, may I assist you in your examination? The chance to work with you-to learn more about your methods-would mean so much to me.”

“This will be only a cursory examination. There is hardly time for a full postmortem. But I would be glad to have you along.”

Nimue returned from the castle carrying a bolt of waxed cloth and accompanied by two servants, neither of whom tried to disguise his fear.

Merlin took an end of the cloth and wrapped it around John’s body, being careful not to touch any exposed areas.

“Take it up to my tower. There is an empty room-you know the one-two levels below my quarters.” He turned to young Robert. “Go along and help them. Then I want you to stay behind to assist Colin. He will need assistance, with all this happening.”

“But, sir-”

“Do it.”

He frowned. “Yes, sir. But-but-”

“Yes?”

“If I am to be your servant, sir, I should be with you. You may need someone to help you.”

Merlin sighed. “Oh, very well. You probably have a point. But go and assist Colin now.”

“Yes, sir.” The boy beamed.

Merlin followed them into the castle.

Arthur waved to one of the knights, Accolon, who was loitering at the entrance to the castle, beckoning him to join him. “Go inside and see if you can find Simon. We’ll be leaving soon, and I need him to organize things.”

“Surely everyone essential is here, Majesty.”

Arthur looked around. “Except most of the knights, plus the functionaries and the servants. They have all scattered. I will need Simon to arrange to get them back here or arrange for some new ones, so we can get under way.”

“Yes, Majesty.”

Merlin’s lift mechanism had been shut down; he was expected to be gone for days, after all. So he made his way slowly up the tower steps to the unused storeroom where the body had been taken; Peter helped him. Merlin took the opportunity to ask him about the status of the investigation into the death of Lord Darrowfield. “You must certainly have some idea by now who did the murders.”

“None, I’m afraid, Merlin. Lady Darrowfield seems to have had the best motive, for her husband’s death, if not their sons’, but there are half a dozen servants who saw her safely in her room the whole night.”

“And are those servants reliable witnesses?”

“I’m not certain what you’re suggesting. They are trusted retainers.”

“Simply this: If Lady Darrowfield was responsible for the killings, she could hardly have done them alone. Moving the bodies and lashing them to the stone would have been work. And if Darrowfield and his sons fought back…”

“I see what you mean.”

“It is the sort of duty only a ‘trusted retainer’ could be called upon to do. Surely that has occurred to you before now.”

“Yes, but it seems so unlikely she’d have murdered her own sons.”

“You know the myth of Medea. But you know the lady much better than I do.”

Nimue was waiting for them in the examination room. “I got medical instruments from your quarters and brought them.” She held out a brown leather bag.

“Excellent. But fetch some lamps, will you, and some magnifying lenses? Peter, will you go along and lend him a hand?”

They went. The two servants who had helped carry the body had vanished as soon as they had placed it in the room. Merlin sent Robert also to assist “Colin” in whatever way he could.

Merlin found himself alone with the corpse. The room was filled with an eerie stillness. Softly he whispered, “Why do I feel so uncertain what killed you? Everyone else seems positive enough.”

When Nimue, Robert and Peter were back, the examination began. Merlin inspected the entire body with his lenses. And everything was consistent with death by plague. The red blotches on the body were darkening to a near-black. And there were no other marks, nothing that might have suggested an unnatural death.

When they were finished, Nimue asked, “Well, are you satisfied?”

“I do not know, Colin. Something is nagging at me, but I am not able to pin it down with certainty.”

“Something that would not show, even under your magni fiers?”

“Perhaps. But you have been following the dispatches from the countryside. There have been no reports of plague appearing anywhere close to Camelot. It seems so unlikely that it should crop up here, in this spectacular fashion, just at this moment.”

“Would you prefer a whole wave of disease to strike us?”

“In a way, yes, I would. At least that would conform to the way we know the plague spreads. But this.” He made a vague gesture at the corpse. “This seems so very unlikely.”

Peter asked him, “Do you mean unlikely or unnatural?”

Merlin furrowed his brow. “I do not know. I wish there was some way to be certain. But I cannot shake the feeling that the court jester is laughing at me in death, just as he did so often in life.”

By the time they rejoined Arthur in the courtyard, the sky had clouded over with a thick layer of ominous black clouds. There was distant lightning. Simon had returned from wherever he had fled to and was busily overseeing a new group of servants as they made ready for the journey. They grumbled. Robert stowed all of Merlin’s things in the carriage.

“So our majordomo is back on the job.” Merlin did not try to hide his disdain for Simon.

But Arthur wanted to be conciliatory. “Simon keeps everything running efficiently. You should have a bit of respect for his office, at least, if not for the man himself.”

Merlin ignored this. “It is going to rain.”

Arthur scowled at him. “Would a bit of peace cost you so much?”

“If it rains much, the roads to the west may become impassable.”

“Merlin, please. If you are determined to be difficult, at least do it in an amusing way. Better yet, tell me what you found in your examination of John’s body.”

Merlin hesitated for a moment. “All signs indicate that he died from the plague, as everyone had assumed. But-”

“Yes?”

“I am not satisfied. I do not know why, but something about his death is nagging at me, as if there were something obvious I have overlooked and I cannot remember what.”

“It will come to you. Sooner or later, you think of everything. As does Simon.” He added this pointedly.

“You have the mind of a bulldog, Arthur.”

“A British bulldog. I will take that as a compliment.”

“But since you have mentioned Simon again, you must instruct him to cremate John’s body as soon as possible.”