They went straight to Merlin’s tower and told him what they’d learned. He seemed upset by the news. “It would be Mark.”

“I thought you suspected him all along.” Nimue was puzzled.

“I did. But a suspicion has turned into a near-certainty, and with it all the awful possibilities have become more real.”

Brit leaned back and put her feet up on the table. “Suppose we send soldiers to arrest him before he can do anything more?”

“Arthur won’t wear it. We still need hard proof. Besides, the scenario we’ve assembled doesn’t quite make sense to me. Mark is trying to provoke some kind of nationwide insurrection, that much seems clear. What on earth would murdering two boys gain him?”

Nimue was about to say something when they heard footsteps on the staircase outside; someone was running. A moment later there came a loud knock at the door. Merlin asked who it was.

“Greffys, sir. I have news.”

“Come in.”

Greffys opened the door and stepped into the room, out of breath and panting heavily.

“You need to start exercising more often, Greffys.” Brit was amused at his entrance. “Climbing a few steps shouldn’t wind you so.”

He ignored her. “I have news, Merlin.” There was urgency in his tone.

“What is it? For heaven’s sake, Greffys, calm down.”

Panting, he said, “We’ve found them.”

“Them? What on earth do you mean?”

“The Stone of Bran and Excalibur. We’ve found them.”

EIGHT. THE PHANTOM OF CAMELOT

“Found them where?” Merlin’s voice was low; Nimue thought it was possible to hear skepticism in it.

“Come, sir, please. The king sent me to fetch you.”

All of them got to their feet, Merlin more slowly than the others. Brit watched him, wondering if it was the effect of his age, his injuries or unhappiness at this wrinkle when he was so certain he had solved the killings. They followed Greffys down the spiral staircase and through Camelot. Merlin, still walking with his cane, lagged behind the others. Torches lit the halls starkly. It became apparent they were heading to the wing where the petty kings were quartered.

“Greffys, I want you to tell me where they were found. Where precisely are we going?” Merlin had never sounded more grave, or more concerned.

“To Pellenore’s room, sir.” The boy kept walking and picked up his pace slightly.

“Pellenore had them.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes, sir.”

“And were they being guarded by a dragon?”

Greffys looked back over his shoulder. “The king sent me for you, sir. He wants you there.”

In another few moments they had reached Pellenore’s quarters. Arthur was in the corridor outside, pacing, looking quite unhappy, talking to a young woman. Pellenore was a few feet away from him; he had pressed himself into an angle of the hallway, and the expression on his face said clearly that he was puzzled and alarmed. Four knights attended Arthur; one more, with sword drawn, stood over Pellenore.

“Merlin. Thank heaven you got here.”

“What is it, Arthur? What is this about?”

“This is Alarica. She is one of the household staff.” He turned to the young woman. “Tell him.” Merlin recognized her. He had interviewed her among the other household staff, briefly; she had known nothing of interest.

“Well, sir, I was cleaning out King Pellenore’s rooms, like I always do. With winter coming on and Midwinter Court almost here, I wanted to give them a more thorough cleaning-out than usual. As I was changing the bed linens, I felt something hard under the mattress. And there it was- Excalibur.”

“Under the mattress?”

“Yes, sir. It made me suspicious, so I looked under the bed, and there was the silver box.”

“It was just sitting there? Not wrapped or bagged or anything? ”

“No, sir. Just sitting there. I could see how it gleamed and I knew it must be valuable. And of course I recognized Excalibur. So I went to the king’s chambers and told him.” She looked around uncertainly. “I didn’t think it would cause all this commotion, sir.”

“No, of course not. Were these things there before now?”

“I couldn’t say, sir. Like I told you, I was being extra careful.”

Merlin turned and walked to where Pellenore was being held; he made himself smile. “Pellenore. Hello, Pellenore.”

The old man was trembling. “Merlin.” He took hold of Merlin’s sleeve. “You know me. You know I didn’t do this. The beasts-the beasts are behind this somehow. You understand. You know what the beasts are capable of. Tell them. Please, Merlin, tell them.” There were tears at the corners of his eyes.

“Pellenore.” Merlin made his voice soothing, hoping it would calm the man. “Pellenore, did you take these things? Did you kill the twins?”

“Those boys.” He stammered it. “No! Merlin, it was the beasts. It must have been them. They thrive on human blood. Please, Merlin, tell the king.”

“All right, all right, Pellenore. I believe you.”

For some reason this seemed to fill the old king with even more terror. His eyes widened and he began to shake quite violently. “Tell him! Tell him, please!”

Arthur made a signal, and two of the knights led Pellenore away at sword point. “Put him in the dungeon,” Arthur instructed them loudly. “Not the one where we kept the twins’ bodies. That would be much too grotesque, even if it would be fitting.”

Pellenore began shrieking and crying out irrational things about his dragons and griffins. The knights prodded him with their swords, and they all disappeared down the corridor and around a corner.

Alarica looked at Arthur; it was clear she didn’t understand what she’d done, or what her find had caused. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t mean to cause so much trouble.”

“It’s all right. You did the right thing. Go to the kitchen and get some wine for yourself. That will calm you.”

“Thank you, sir.” Still clearly puzzled and unsure, the woman left.

Arthur turned to Merlin. “Well, there you have it. We have our killer.”

“Are you certain, Arthur?”

“How else could he have come into possession of this and the shrine?” He swung Excalibur a few times, plainly enjoying its heft. “I won’t need a new sword after all. I can send Pastorini back to Cornwall where he belongs.”

“Pastorini. Of course.” Merlin seemed pleased. “That explains it. May I see Excalibur, please?”

“What on earth for?” Arthur handed it to him.

“Would you say it is damaged at all, Arthur? Haft still firmly attached? Blade straight and true?”

“Of course. Pellenore stole it, but why would he have damaged it?”

“If he had slept on it every night for all these weeks, would the blade still be straight? Wouldn’t it be bent?”

“What are you saying?”

“Besides, Pellenore is daft, not stupid. Why would he or anyone else sleep on a thing like this?”

“Get to the point, Merlin-if there is one.”

“I’m telling you that I still don’t believe Pellenore is our culprit.”

Arthur snorted derisively. “The stolen things were found in his room. That is evidence enough for me. Frankly, it’s a relief to have it all over and done with.”

“I can imagine.”

“My boys can rest in peace now.”

“Oh-so can we all.”

“Good. I’m glad you understand that. Now don’t go muddying the waters with a lot of claptrap about reason and logic. We have the killer, and it is the man I’ve suspected all along.”

“Arthur, will you listen to me?”

“We should have realized he’d do something horrible sooner or later.”

“Arthur!” He spoke loudly and firmly, then lowered his voice to a confidential whisper. “We have to talk about this. Mark is-”

“We can try him during Midwinter Court. It will be good for people to see my justice in action.”

“Arthur, will you listen to me?”

The king sighed. “You would have to take the pleasure out of this moment. What is it?”