J. Blair - The Pendragon Murders

“They will, in time. You’re my policy advisor, for heaven’s sake. You’re supposed to find ways to implement my policies, not find reasons why they won’t work.”

Merlin shrugged. He wanted to point out that Arthur’s potential heirs were dying at an alarming rate, but it seemed wiser not to raise the issue.

Another messenger from Camelot caught up with the party. Among other missives, he had another letter for Merlin. But this one, surprisingly, was not from Nimue. It was from Merlin’s other assistant, Petronus.

Merlin,

I am writing because I know that you wanted to be informed of events at Camelot. Colin asked me to send you this letter. He wanted me to assure you that everything is under control here and that the news from the surrounding countryside continues favorable.

Ships putting in at our ports carry rumors that this plague has been deliberately spread by the Byzantines. Whether that is true or whether people are being unduly suspicious, we have no way of knowing.

Colin is not writing himself because he is ill. He has developed a severe cold and has spent the last two days in bed. But please do not worry. It is only a cold, nothing more. And Marian of Bath and her son Wayne are tending him.

Your student and assistant,

Petronus

Merlin grew immediately alarmed. He took pen and paper and wrote a response.

Petronus,

Do not under any circumstances permit Marian and Wayne anywhere near Colin. Another messenger is on his way to Camelot with instructions to arrest them on suspicion of murder. If by chance this should reach you before that other messenger does, take this note to Simon at once and see that they are arrested.

Merlin

He had the note countersigned by Arthur himself, so that Simon could not question its authority, then sent it off, with instructions to the rider to rest as little as humanly possible and reach Camelot as rapidly as he could.

Arthur was puzzled by the urgency. “Why should you be so concerned about Colin? No one thinks he is one of my sons.”

“With so many of your… possible successors eliminated, you may have to look elsewhere for the next… ruler. Colin is bright, educated, thoughtful, perceptive. You could do much worse than to name him.”

“I hardly know the boy.”

“That is not the point. It is not merely your bloodline that is under attack. It is the very concept of English stability and continuity. How well did you know John of Paintonbury?”

“Point taken. But-”

“I am not suggesting that you actually should adopt Colin as your heir, mind you. There would be too many… complications. But you have littered the country with children, Arthur. Whether you did it to spite Guenevere or simply because you are a robust young man is irrelevant. Colin has reached a position of some authority at Camelot. He is being trained by me-by your chief advisor-and has assumed a great deal of responsibility. How could anyone not suspect…” He let the thought trail off, unfinished. Nimue had become like a daughter to him. The thought that Arthur’s indiscretions might have put her life at risk was too awful for him to think about. “Let us hope one or the other of our messengers reaches home before anything terrible happens.”

Arthur fell silent. After a moment of quiet thought, he uttered softly one word. “Daughters.”

“I beg your pardon, Arthur?”

“Nothing. Just a passing thought. I ought to get back to my horse and the head of the column. The knights there are carrying banners that announce me. I ought to be there.” And he left the carriage quickly.

But the next afternoon he picked up the theme again.

A ferocious wind had been blowing, but at least the constant rain and snow had let up. Arthur and Bedivere rode side by side at the front of the column. Suddenly out of some bushes ran a young woman. She was in her late teens or perhaps her early twenties. She had blond hair and flashing blue eyes. And she was completely naked. On seeing the approaching knights, she darted back into the underbrush.

Arthur shouted, “After her!” Two men detached themselves from the column and spurred their horses into the dense brush. A moment later they returned, holding her between them. She was fighting like a cornered bobcat.

Seeing how many knights there were, she quieted. Staring directly at Arthur she asked, “Which one?”

Arthur had no idea what she meant. “I beg your pardon, young woman? I am Arthur, King of all England.”

Unexpectedly she stood up tall and proud. “Never mind all that. Which one of you wants me first?”

Arthur and Bedivere exchanged puzzled glances. Bedivere told her, “You are under some misapprehension, miss. We are not here as raiders or conquerors. This man is your king.”

She laughed. “I want you, too. All of you, or as many as it takes to wear me out. Come on. Let’s get at it. There are enough of you that this will take all day and all night.” She turned back to the bushes where they had taken her. “Tom, come on out. There are a lot of them, and from the looks of them some of them will want you, not me.”

A young man, about her age and blond like her, stuck his head out timidly.

“Come on, Tom, hop to it. There are some nice ones, too.”

Tom stepped forward out of the bushes. He was her age or perhaps a bit older. Like his companion he was quite naked.

Arthur turned to the nearest of his servants. “Get them some blankets and some boots. It is far too cold for… for that state.” He turned to the woman. “Who are you? What are you called?”

“Gillian.”

“And what place is this, Gillian?”

“It is called Treasel.”

He exchanged glances with Bedivere. “Those damned old maps of ours.” To Gillian he said, “We are seeking a place called Grosfalcon. Is it nearby?”

“About ten miles. Just past Smalfalcon. Come on, what are you waiting for? Get that armor off and let’s get to it.”

“I’m afraid that is out of the question. I am-suppose there should be a child?”

“None of us will live that long. The plague is coming.”

“But-”

“We will be dead soon enough. Are we going to get down to some lovemaking or aren’t we?”

“No, we are not.”

“Then let us go, so we can get back to it. It’s your loss, King.”

The man Tom had been standing just behind her. He pulled the blanket more tightly around himself. “We were making love.”

“So we gathered. In this awful weather? You’ll catch pneumonia or worse.”

Tom shrugged. “It doesn’t make any difference, does it?”

Puzzled, Arthur told him, “No, I suppose it doesn’t. You say this road will take us to Grosfalcon?”

Gillian nodded. “Just stay on it. If you don’t want me-” She winked at Tom. “If you don’t want us, there will be plenty of others there.”

Arthur was more and more bewildered by their manner. “We have told you, we’re not a conquering force. We-”

Tom pushed his hand inside Gillian’s blanket and began to fondle her. She laughed and they both ran off into the undergrowth.

One of the knights made to follow them but Arthur told him to leave them alone. The column resumed its forward progress. “At least we know we’re on the right road.” He called for Perceval to join them. “Does any of this territory look familiar?”

“No, Majesty. I approached it from the south when I found the Stone. But I did hear of a nearby town called Smalfalcon.”

Bedivere was working with the maps. “There doesn’t seem to be any indication of it.”

“Grosfalcon isn’t much of a place. Smalfalcon must be even smaller.”

“Excellent deduction.”

Perceval kept an eye on the bushes, hoping for another glimpse of the lovers. But there was no sign of them. “It can’t be much more than a few old farms. Grosfalcon is not much bigger than that.”