Untitled (21 page)

   Morgan's procession headed directly for Arthur, and she took her place at his right hand, with the boy holding the relic behind him on his left.

   Merlin crossed to Nimue. "Why did you not tell me they would be doing this?"

   She laughed. "Morgan insisted. Arthur didn't seem to have the energy to argue."

   "But—but—everyone at court knows what a sham the thing is. Even Arthur has admitted it. How could he—?"

   "It will impress the visitors, or so she claims."

   "You think all these learned men will be impressed by a lump of glass?"

   "You always refuse to get involved in discussions of court ceremony, Merlin. You say you have more important things to concern yourself with. Then, when you don't like what happens, you complain."

   Abruptly the music stopped. Arthur stood. Everyone in the hall bowed to him.

   "Friends, welcome visitors to our court, we greet you warmly and cordially. And we trust that our hospitality has been pleasing to you. We are here to celebrate the birthday of our beloved wife, Queen Guenevere."

   The crowd applauded politely as if on cue—and as if they meant it.

   "And we are gratified at your attendance upon her on this happy occasion. By honoring her, you honor England."

   So he made the salient diplomatic point. No one in the crowd seemed convinced that either she or England merited such honor, but being diplomats they smiled and applauded again.

   Arthur was about to go on when the sound of a loud sneeze filled the hall. Everyone looked around. The Lithua­ nian was wiping his nose on a lace handkerchief and blush­ ing. He said something incomprehensible, presumably an apology.

   Bishop Gildas intoned, loudly and importantly, "God bless you."

   The Lithuanian ignored him, grinned at the crowd and repeated whatever it was that he had said.

   Merlin leaned close to Nimue and whispered, "I am be­ ginning to like that man more and more."

   "Why, for heaven's sake? You can't understand a word he says."

   "Precisely. He has that advantage over all the others."

   "Really, Merlin."

   "Andrew of Okun thinks he may be a Turk."

   "Shush."

   Unflapped by the interruption, Arthur went on with his speech. He welcomed all the delegates, naming the impor­ tant ones specifically. He praised Europe as the cradle of civilization and enlightenment. And even though no one from Byzantium had appeared, he praised Justinian's em­ pire as the stalwart defender and propagator of that civili­ zation.

   He went on for long minutes. Impatience began to be­ come apparent in some of the crowd. Then Merlin realized that another interruption was occurring, though what it was was not immediately clear. The members of the audience closest to the door were ignoring the king and watching someone or something there.

   Gradually more and more people became aware of what was happening; in a short time nearly everyone was pre­ tending to listen to Arthur but actually watching the door­ way.

   Finally Merlin saw: A short man in magnificent apparel was standing there, flanked by half a dozen attendants. And then even Arthur noticed this overdressed stranger.

   The man's cloak was, or seemed to be, spun gold. Three heavy golden chains hung around his neck; each of them bore a magnificent ruby. His cap was silver, and he doffed it with a grand, dramatic gesture. His hair was brilliant red, his skin as pale as seafoam and even at a distance it was possible to see that his eyes were the brightest green.

   Merlin moved toward the man, whoever he was. From his platform Arthur glared at the man. He stopped speaking and peered at him, disapprovingly but with undisguised curiosity. "And who, may I inquire, are you, sir?"

   "I am," the man announced in an unexpectedly big voice, "Podarthes, Ambassador Plenipotentiary of His Christian Majesty, Emperor Justinian." He produced an ornate envelope bearing what was presumably the imperial seal. "These are my credentials. I have come to treat with Queen Guenevere, the divinely ordained ruler of Britain."

   In a low, flat voice, Arthur asked, "Ordained by which divinity, precisely?" He froze even more completely than he had when he was trying to appear regal. On her throne Guenevere broke into a wide smile; she did not even at­ tempt to hide it. Across the room, Leonilla did not react; did not so much as narrow her eyes slightly.

   Merlin rushed to Arthur's side and whispered, "Tell him you are pleased he has arrived at long last but that you will not talk with him until after he has been installed in his quarters. Stall. Simon will know what to do—he can find a dozen excuses. The rooms aren't ready. Unexpected arrival. Short staff, overworked. We can put him off till we have the chance to talk this over. Whatever you do, do not give him an opening."

   Arthur took the cue; he welcomed Podarthes at consid­ erable length and with florid language. To Merlin's relief he said exactly the correct thing. "We welcome you to our court, Podarthes. And we are gratified at your devotion to our loyal vassal and wife, Queen Guenevere."

   For a brief instant a look of concern crossed Podarthes's face. The word
vassal
had had the desired effect. Then he recovered himself and replaced it with a diplomat's smile. He bowed to Arthur, quite ostentatiously.

   Meanwhile Merlin found Simon and made certain he understood the situation. Simon reassured him. "Don't worry. Just give me time to make the proper arrange­ ments."

   "You know the diplomatic service, Simon. Stalling is what we do best."

   On the dais, Arthur announced that his loving wife, Queen Guenevere, was about to mark her birthday by re­ newing on Excalibur her vow of fealty to him as well as, by implication, her marriage vow. There was a buzz among the delegates; they all certainly knew what she and Lancelot had done. If they hadn't known before they arrived, they certainly picked up the gossip at Corfe Castle.

   The musicians began playing a composition heavy with pomp and majesty. The queen stood and slowly walked to Arthur. He in his turn drew Excalibur from its sheath. It seemed to more than one person in the audience that she was shaking as she stood before him. With anger? Humilia­ tion?

   Slowly she got to her knees. She bent to kiss the hem of his garment, then Excalibur. And she recited in a loud, clear, expressionless voice the words of the oath Merlin had written for her, acknowledging Arthur as the rightful king of England and her rightful husband, swearing lifelong allegiance and fidelity, pledging her blood and her life to his service and to the interests of his England, and on and on.

   No one in the audience seemed to know what to make of the scene. Podarthes was frozen to immobility. Except for the queen's voice there was not a sound in the Great Hall.

   Arthur announced that he was touched and quite pleased by her assertion of loyalty. He bade her rise and return to her throne.

   When the scene finally ended, Simon approached Po­ darthes. "If you will follow me, sir, I will see that you are installed comfortably in a suitable suite."

   Podarthes smiled, and his green eyes seemed to flash even more brightly, and it all seemed completely artificial. "With pleasure. And you are—?"

   Simon introduced himself. A moment later Merlin joined the two of them and did likewise.

   "Ah, Merlin." Podarthes beamed. "The famous sorcerer and King Arthur's chief counselor." He looked around the hall. "Arthur is fortunate to have you. It will take a great magician indeed to deal with all of this." He gestured vaguely at the crowd in the hall.

   "I am afraid," Merlin said, trying to disguise his annoy­ ance, "that my reputation for wizardry is rather wildly ex­ aggerated. I am merely a humble scholar, and King Arthur's servant and advisor. At any rate, I am afraid your arrival was somewhat abrupt, sir, and quite unexpected at this late moment. Simon will see that you are comfortable and have the opportunity to dine and rest. There will be plenty of time for us to talk afterward. I must tell you, though, that your understanding of the political situation in England may not be quite up to date."

   "So I gathered, and as the king seems to have indicated. I am quite famished. Your hospitality is most welcome. But perhaps you misunderstand. We have been in your country for weeks, traveling about, meeting people, learning every­ thing we could." He smiled. "We would have been here days ago but for all this rain. I cannot recall a less hospita­ ble climate."

   "You have been here all this time? Without notifying us? That is most irregular, Podarthes, as I am certain you must know."

   "We were lost." He tossed off the lie as if it didn't really matter. "But about dinner . . . ?"

   Merlin gestured to Simon, who took immediate charge.

   On the dais Arthur had been watching all of this, plainly concerned. When he saw Podarthes smiling, his concern turned to mild alarm. He made a few more quick remarks to the crowd, then clapped his hands grandly and the various entertainers began circulating about the Great Hall, per­ forming their tricks, singing, plying groups of men with riddles and whatnot.

   Arthur climbed down from the stage and made his way through the crowd, acknowledging this delegate and that, till he finally reached Merlin. They stepped apart from the crowd into a small side room. "So he's here." The king frowned. "What on earth are we to do with him?"

   "That is easy. Keep him waiting. That is diplomacy at its purest."

   "Don't be glib, Merlin. If we do anything he regards as a slight, it could have terrible consequences."

   Merlin was breezy. "We have more pressing things to concern ourselves with."

   "More pressing? Be serious, Merlin. Wars have been started over such things."

   "Podarthes's presence makes it that much more urgent that we get to the bottom of the murder of Leodegrance. If we can prove that Guenevere was involved, it will pull the rug quite completely out from under his intention to treat with her."

   Arthur was deflated. "You're right. What do we do?"

   "I think," Merlin said softly and slowly, "Lancelot has stewed in his cell long enough. It is time we interviewed him."

"So you have come to question me. It is about time." Lan­ celot was sitting on a stone ledge in his cell, which was darker and colder than Merlin remembered from his inter­ view with Petronus.

   Merlin and Arthur stood in the doorway of the cell, each holding a torch. Just behind them the jailor and two guards watched, making certain they were safe and Lancelot did not have the opportunity to attack them.

   "You must give us a moment, Lancelot. The dungeons here are so much darker than the ones at Camelot. Are we actually underground, do you imagine?"

   "Move me to Camelot if it troubles you."

   The king brushed this aside. "We have so many castles in England—all with dungeons. Would you like to have your choice?"

   "No doubt you will choose the one with the most efficient torture chamber."

   Merlin laughed softly. "You always did have a flair for the dramatic. Why else choose a lover as . . . as problematic as Guenevere?" The two of them swept into the chamber, trying to display the confidence of men with the upper hand, and stood over him.

   "Wife." Lancelot got to his feet.

   "I beg your pardon?" A note of menace crept into Ar­ thur's voice.

   "You said lover. She is my wife."

   "Under what law, Frenchman? The Christian Church, as I take it, considers your marriage bigamous. Not even your partisan Gildas has said a word to defend it. And under English law you are both guilty of high treason." Almost as an afterthought he added with a grin, "A capital offense."

   The interrogation was not off to a promising start. Mer­ lin decided to try a more conciliatory approach. "We have come to hear your account of the killing of Leodegrance. Surely you do not want to antagonize us and miss the op­ portunity."

   "As if you'd believe what I told you."

   "Merlin is investigating." The king followed his coun­ selor's lead. "We intend to determine the facts, whatever they may be and wherever they may lead."

   Lancelot sat again and glared up at them. "Facts? What would you know about facts? We heard about you in France years before I ever came here. How Merlin rigged that stunt with the sword in the stone to convince the gullible you were destined to be king. Could a king whose reign is based on such fraud be concerned with facts?"

   "None of this," Merlin said firmly, "is helping your case. Would you like to tell us what happened that day? Better yet, would you like to confess to the French king's murder?"

   "I didn't kill him," Lancelot muttered. "And I think you both know it. There is nothing I could tell you that would make a difference. I half suspect you had him killed your­ selves, so you could blame it on me."