J. Blair - The Pendragon Murders

“When?”

“In time, I said. For the moment you will be returned to your cells. I thank you for answering my questions.”

“But you don’t believe us!” Wayne could not contain his anger.

“I have not said so.”

“We nursed this fool back to health.” He pointed at Nimue. “How much clearer could it be that we’re not villains? Let us loose!”

“In time. That is all I can tell you. In time.”

He left the cell, with Nimue just behind him, gave instructions to the guards and headed for the wing of the dungeon that held Lulua and Marmaduke.

The cot in Lulua’s cell was tiny. As they entered, she was lying on it. Or trying to. Parts of her hung over the edge. Seeing Merlin enter, she sat up, with some difficulty.

“Good morning, Lulua. I trust you slept well.” His manner was magisterial. “You are losing weight. Prison food must agree with you.”

“Don’t be sarcastic, Wizard.”

“I am not. I am never sarcastic. I was merely expressing friendly concern. This is my assistant Colin. He will be taking notes on our… conversation.”

Lulua snorted, then laughed out loud. “Conversation.”

But Merlin was not about to be distracted. He sat and said to her offhandedly, “I would like to know what instructions you had from Morgan le Fay pertaining to Arthur and myself.”

Serenely she closed her eyes and said, “None.”

“So your treason was entirely your own.” He smiled. “You were not acting on orders from a superior.”

“I am a priestess. I have no superiors.”

“Interesting viewpoint. But clinging to that argument will hardly benefit you in your trial.”

Lulua struggled to her feet and began pacing. “Try me. Go ahead. What I did I did for England. That is hardly treason.”

“A jury of twelve men may think otherwise.” He turned to Nimue. “Note that she insists she was acting on her own.” Then he looked back to Lulua. “And I suppose Marmaduke was likewise acting solely on his own initiative?”

“Ask him.”

“I intend to, believe me.”

Heavily she sat down again. “Arthur Pendragon seized England by force of arms. His kingship is an outrage to every principle of justice.”

“It is refreshing to hear you speak with such candor. But you must realize that you are not doing yourself any good. That amounts to an admission of treason. English justice-”

Lulua laughed. “Justice? From an ambitious warlord like Arthur? Why don’t you go away and prepare for my execution? I am prepared for the goddess to take me to her bosom.”

“Of course you are.” Merlin nodded to Nimue and they both got to their feet. “As you wish, Lulua. If you decide that you would like to tell me something that might mitigate your offence, have the guards summon me.” He stepped toward the cell door. “Oh-one more thing.”

“What?”

“Why did you keep drugged wine at your mill?”

She laughed. The cot creaked under her. “Are you serious? Why would I do that?”

“Drugged with narcotics from your herb garden.”

“You think I grew belladonna to use on myself?”

“Belladonna.” The clouds in his mind seemed to part.

He froze for an instant.

Nimue asked him what was wrong.

“Nothing.” He recovered himself quickly and smiled a wide smile at her. “What other poisons did you grow, Lulua?”

“Go away. I want to sleep. And have the guards bring me some food.”

“You can eat in your sleep?”

“Go away, Wizard.”

Outside the cell, Merlin paused for a moment, evidently lost in thought.

Nimue asked if anything was wrong.

“No, of course not. But she grew belladonna. In the name of everything human, I wonder if-”

“Belladonna is a poison, Merlin. Why would anyone grow it?”

He shrugged. “Morgan does, I suspect. Are you certain you’ve recovered from your illness?”

The change of topic left her reeling for a moment. “My-Yes, of course. But why do you ask?”

“If you are quite over your ailment-”

“Yes?” She was suspicious. What could be on his mind?

“If you are quite recovered, I will want you to go on a little mission for me.”

“A mission.” She was deadpan.

“Yes. To Darrowfield.”

“To-! Merlin, this doesn’t make any sense. Are we investigating treason, or-?”

“I want you to inspect Lady Darrowfield’s herb garden. I need to know whether she is growing belladonna, like Lulua.”

“Belladonna?” Nimue leaned casually against the wall, grinning. “I thought we were investigating treason, trying to get to the bottom of it. What has belladonna-?”

“Belladonna, as you said, is a poison.” He smiled like a fox.

“I’m quite aware of that, Merlin. But-”

“The symptoms of belladonna poisoning are quite similar to the symptoms of the plague.”

“Oh.” It was almost a whisper. “Oh.” Then the surprise wore off. “But there really is a plague. Or has been. We’re all so grateful it’s ending with the cold weather. But-”

“Let us go and interview Marmaduke.”

“Merlin, will you please tell me what you have on your mind? Are you suggesting that the plague deaths were…? I don’t even know what to ask you. Please, tell me what you’re thinking.”

His smile had not diminished. “The thought is only half formed. I could not articulate it in a coherent manner. Not yet. But I have had a suspicion all along that all the awful things that were happening were somehow related. The murders at Stonehenge. The deaths of John, Bruce and Accolon, and poor George…”

“Then how-?”

“Let us move on. Lord Marmaduke is waiting.”

He moved briskly toward the traitor’s cell, with Nimue just behind. The jailor, seeing their approach, got his keys from his pocket and made ready to unlock the door.

Just as they reached it, Merlin stopped. “I should warn you. Marmaduke… How shall I put it?… The air in his cell is apt not to be fresh.”

“I wish you’d stop talking to me in riddles.”

“You will see, soon enough. Or rather, you will smell.”

The jailor’s key clanked in the lock and the cell door swung open. Instantly Marmaduke’s stench wafted out. Nimue reflexively covered her nose. “Good grief!”

“Exactly. And his entire palace reeks in that way.”

Marmaduke had been resting on the floor, curled into something like a fetal position, or as close to one as a man of his bulk could manage. The sound of the door opening wakened him. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Wizard. What the devil do you want?”

Merlin stood at the threshold and made no move to enter the cell. “Your trial will be starting soon.” He smiled and added, “Your trial for treason.”

“I should have killed you both at once, when I had the chance. The mistake I made was waiting.”

“The mistake you made was thinking you could attempt regicide and get away with it.”

Nimue leaned casually against the doorpost. “Regicide and wizard-cide,” she added, grinning.

Marmaduke struggled heavily to his feet and took a step unobtrusively toward the door. “You’re going to put me on trial and kill me. Our positions are reversed. That is war.”

“No, that is justice.” Merlin arranged his robes.

“Justice?” Marmaduke was growing angry and it showed. His eyes widened and his face flushed. “Robbing a man of his territory? Defiling his wife?”

“It is hardly possible to ‘defile’ a woman who is quite willing.”

Marmaduke glared.

“And even if it was possible, it is hardly a crime in the same league as what you planned. But all of this is beside the point. I want to know about Morgan le Fay.”

Puzzlement showed through the anger in Marmaduke’s face.