J. Blair - The Pendragon Murders

“Morgan le Fay? No, none. Not for a moment.”

He turned to Petronus. “And you. Did you ever hear either of them say anything of the sort?”

Petronus shook his head. He was plainly lost.

Suddenly Merlin got to his feet. “I think it is time for me to interview them. Which dungeon are they in?”

“The north one. It is rather full down there. You kept sending back prisoners.”

“And one of them, at least, is guilty. But we do not yet know the full extent of the guilt.”

“You mustn’t go till you’ve told us all about the journey. We want to know everything.”

“The fact that I want to know everything is why I must go know. I promise I will give you a full account later.”

“You’re infuriating.”

He smiled beatifically. “It is my job. Till later.” He made a little salute. “Come, Petronus. Operate the lift for me.”

Nimue wanted to go with Merlin. He wanted her to stay in bed till she was fully recovered, but she insisted she felt fine. So while Petronus operated the lift for Merlin, she descended the stairs and met him at the bottom. They headed down to the dungeons.

“So, Petronus has discovered your secret.”

“Yes. I wish he hadn’t.” She shrugged. “But I was sick. He wanted to undress me, to help make me more comfortable. The only way I could think to stop him was to tell him the truth.”

“And what about Marian? And her son? Do they know?” Nimue shook her head. “I don’t think so, no. I don’t see how they could.”

“Petronus…” His tone was offhand.

“No, Petronus is quite thrilled to be in on the secret. He is excited by the thought of a woman dressing as a man.”

Merlin laughed. “Precocious boy. So, at least for the time being, and as far as anyone in Camelot knows, you are still Colin. Excellent.”

“What do you mean, ‘for the time being’?”

“Secrets have a way of leaking out, whether we want them to or not.” They had reached the lowest level of the castle. “As I hope will be the case when we interview our unwilling guests.”

There were guards posted in the dungeon, of course. Nimue asked Merlin if they should perhaps take one with them as they interrogated the prisoners.

“No. I do not think that would be productive.” He smiled. “Besides, the cells are so small, and Marmaduke and Lulua are so large.”

“What about the others?”

“There will be five of us in one cell. That is more than crowded enough.”

Marian had been confined in a little cell in Camelot’s basement. Each of her sons had his own cell as well. Merlin ordered that both of the boys be brought to her cell. As he sat and waited for the jailors to bring them, he questioned Marian.

“You know Colin.”

“Yes, of course.” Marian was made of ice. “He is the rat who gave you some pretext to arrest us.”

“That is not so. Colin is here to make notes, nothing more. I hope you do not mind.”

She laughed at him. “And if I do?”

Merlin brushed that aside. “You were at Darrowfield. Tell me what happened there after my party left.”

“I’ve told everyone who’s asked.” Marian paused to glare at “Colin,” then went on. “Nothing in particular happened there. We helped the lord’s servants make ready for the feast he was planning.” She seemed uncertain whether she should be saying this, or whether Merlin would believe her. Her manner was hesitant. But she went on. “I even gave them the recipe for my honey cakes. Then word came that the lord and his sons had been-had been-”

“Slaughtered.” Merlin smiled faintly. “Like sheep. Where were you and your sons when the murder occurred?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You suspect us? So that explains this imprisonment. But we-”

The guards entered with Robert and Wayne. Merlin gestured that they should take seats beside their mother. “Go on with what you were saying, Marian.”

She ignored this and told her sons, “Merlin appears to think we murdered Lord Darrowfield and his boys.”

“What?!” One of the twins jumped to his feet, plainly angry at this. “Why would we? What was that old fool to us?” The other boy remained seated, his features passive. Merlin was uncertain which of them was which. But he took a guess.

“And you, Robert, you gave us drugged wine that night at Lulua’s mill.”

“No!” The more agitated of the twins began to wave his arms. “I did not! It was Lulua’s wine, the wine that was there.”

“Why would Lulua have drugged wine in her house?”

“How do I know? She was a witch.”

“Point taken. But Robert, who gave you the wine? Who told you to serve that particular wine to everyone?”

The boy paused. “I don’t remember. Someone on your staff, I think it was.”

“One of us asked to be drugged?”

“I told you I don’t remember.”

Merlin changed tack. “Lulua had an herb garden at the mill. You had access to it. What grew there?”

Robert stared at him and said nothing. But his brother spoke up. “So there was a garden. What of that? There are herb gardens everywhere. Lady Darrowfield had one at that castle of theirs. There is a large one here at Camelot.”

Merlin looked at Marian. “You are a cook. You know herbs.”

“Yes.”

“Which ones did Lady Darrowfield grow?”

“I can’t remember that. I never really used the herb garden, just the stores of honey they had. They had spices already stored in the kitchen. There was no need.”

“Were there any poisons?”

“I tell you I don’t know.”

“No. Of course not. But Marian, there is something else I must ask you. Something that may be… awkward. I am not certain it is a thing I should ask you with your sons here. Shall I have them taken back to their cells?”

“You’ve only just had them brought here.”

“Even so. I-”

“I do not keep secrets from my boys. Whatever you want to know, you can ask with them here.”

Her manner was more than slightly assertive, and it caught him off guard. After a moment’s pause he went on. “Very well, then. Marian, I must ask you-”

“Yes?”

“Who is the father of your sons?”

The question seemed to surprise her. “The-? Why would you ask such a thing? What can that possibly have to do with-?”

“I need to know. A great deal depends on your answer.” He lowered his voice slightly. “Perhaps even your lives.”

“Our lives!” Wayne jumped to his feet. “Why are you threatening us? You can’t possibly think we’ve done anything.”

Merlin ignored his outburst. “Marian?”

She remained silent.

“I ask you again: Who is the father of these boys?”

Still she said nothing.

Softly he went on. “Come, now, you can tell me.” Even more softly, almost as an afterthought, he asked her, “Is it the king?”

Marian’s eyes widened. “The king? Is that what this is about? Half the court says you’re a fool, Merlin, and they are right.”

More vehemently he repeated his question. “Is it the king?”

Marian was working to calm herself, and it showed. Finally she uttered one word. “No.”

“Then who-?”

“I was young. I was an attractive young woman, though years of working in Camelot’s kitchen have ended that. I had a great many lovers in those days. Knights, squires, courtiers.” She added with force, “But not Arthur. Not the king. Never him.”

Slowly Merlin got to his feet. “Very well, then. If you are telling me the truth-”

“I am!”

“Then that ends this inquiry.”

The three of them were clearly puzzled by this. Robert asked, “Then you will release us?”

“In time. There are still a great many unanswered questions.”