The Excalibur Murders (32 page)

During this, Petronus had entered the hall and made his way unobtrusively to the side of the stage. As Greffys and the guards climbed to the platform, Petronus produced a pair of large lenses Merlin and Samuel had given him. He held them carefully before two of the torches, and the lenses focused their light and directed it to the stone. Suddenly, it seemed to everyone watching, the Stone of Bran began to glow brightly, almost ethereally. As Greffys moved across the stage to Arthur, Petronus changed the angle of the lenses so that the light followed and the crystal skull seemed to burn with a supernatural light.

When Greffys was beside him, Arthur took the stone in the fingertips of both hands and held it aloft. "Behold the Stone of Bran, the gift of the gods!" The crowd gasped and applauded vigorously.

Then Merlin, in his magician's robes, slowly, solemnly mounted the platform and crossed to Arthur. He made a slight bow, first to the king then to the skull. Then he turned and faced the audience. "Let the wonders begin," he intoned, and the audience fell into a hushed silence.

Petronus adjusted his lenses so that the beams shone on both Merlin and on the stone. Merlin made a slow, deliberate, majestic bow to the audience. Then, with equally deliberate slowness, he removed his pointed hat. With a flourish he showed it to the audience so that they could see that it was empty. Then he took the stone and touched it to the hat, held the hat in one hand and from it produced a live rabbit. The animal struggled to escape his grip. He let it drop to the stage and it scampered away, frightened and confused. It ran, improbably, in the direction where Morgan and Mordred were standing. Mordred caught it and handed it to his mother, who cradled it in her arms till it calmed down.

In the wings, Samuel beamed. Merlin had worked the trick he'd taught him perfectly. Someone in the audience shouted, "That's it, Merlin? That is the great wonder we've been promised?"

Instead of answering, Merlin raised a finger to his lips and gestured to the door nearest the stage.

A young woman with blond hair, wearing a low-cut snow-white gown, entered the hall, eyes lowered, and walked to the stage. Behind her came Greffys, carrying a large saw. Finally, the two gravediggers entered, carrying a large wooden coffin. This was all so unexpected, the crowd fell silent again.

The girl in white climbed to the stage, followed by the others. The gravediggers let their coffin rest on two wooden trestles and made a quick exit. Merlin assisted the woman into the coffin, where she lay down, and he closed the lid.

In the audience, Mark gaped at her. Was she the same woman who'd come to him that night at his own castle? Could Merlin have been behind her presence there, then? Drunk almost to a stupor, he tried to think clearly and make sense of it, but it was no use.

From a corner of his eye, Merlin watched Mark. The show seemed to be having the desired effect on him. Once again he took the Stone of Bran and with a flourish passed it over the coffin three times; then another three times he tapped the lid with it. And he took the saw and began to cut it in half, and the woman with it. People in the crowd gasped; Mark gaped.

When the coffin was cut clear through, Merlin and Greffys moved the two halves apart, then slid them back together again. Waving the stone above it one more time, he opened the lid, and out stepped the young woman in white. The audience cheered and applauded. Mark blinked and tried to focus, uncertain whether to believe what he was seeing.

Morgan, standing at the back of the audience, was bored. She leaned against the wall and yawned. She handed the rabbit to her son and whispered something to him; he also yawned.

On his throne at the side of the stage Arthur watched alternately his minister/magician and the audience, and he smiled serenely, pleased that Merlin's worst expectations had not come to pass. No one was reacting adversely to the show; the killer was not a member of his court.

But there was something else happening in the audience; and Merlin was so focused on Mark he didn't notice. Lancelot slowly, gradually began to shake off his alcoholic haze. And as his senses returned, or began to, he glared at the boy holding the lenses. It was his former squire, the one who'd deserted him without permission, without even saying a word.

Unsteadily, he got to his feet, pushed the people around him away and drew his sword. "Traitor!" he bellowed. "Turncoat!" And he began to lunge at Petronus through the crowd. "I'll kill you! You'll join the other two in the underworld! " The boy, terrified, dropped his lenses to the stage and scrambled underneath the platform. Nimue left the stage quickly and joined the actors in their waiting area.

Guenevere shouted in alarm, "Stop! Lancelot, stop this!"

Half a dozen knights caught hold of Lancelot and restrained him. But he fought them, shouting at the boy, strugglingagainst their hold and still trying to brandish his sword. Finally, one of them wrenched it free of his grasp and it clattered loudly onto the stone floor.

Arthur stood. "Hold that man! Do not let him go!"

At the rear of the hall Morgan stirred for the first time. She stood erect, watching what was happening, and she smiled slightly and whispered something to Mordred.

Finally, Lancelot seemed to lose energy. He became quiet and permitted the knights to place him in his chair once again. Guenevere placed a hand on his arm and murmured something to him, and it quieted him even more.

From the stage Arthur said, "You six--place him in his seat and see that he stays there. Keep him there forcibly if you must. Let us hope this was the final outburst. This is a solemn occasion. I will not have it disrupted. All of you, be calm. Remember the dignity of our court." And he resumed his throne.

Merlin had watched all of this carefully. That it was Lancelot not Mark who had exploded surprised him. But despite the mention of "the other two," Lancelot's anger was at the squire who'd left him and seemed unrelated to the murders. But the evening's signal event was still to come. Or so he hoped.

Gradually, the crowd quieted. Lancelot sat glumly, showing no sign he would make more commotion. Merlin stepped to the floor, bent to look under the stage and gestured to Petronus to come out. "It is over, Pete. Come out now."

Warily, the boy did so. When he was out from under, he looked at Lancelot and was somewhat reassured to see him quiet. With Petronus back in place, the performance could resume. Merlin remounted the stage.

"And now," he announced, "for the greatest wonder of all. You have seen a woman torn in two and restored to life. Now you shall witness something even greater."

He clapped his hands loudly three times. The musicians struck up a low, sad melody like a funeral march. Two of the young actors in Samuel's company entered the hall again, this time carrying a pallet between them. On the pallet was what seemed to be a body, over which was stretched a linen shroud or winding-sheet. Petronus focused light on it and made it seem to glow softly. Behind the actors the two gravediggers followed.

Slowly, solemnly, the two actors carried their burden to the stage. Merlin gestured to them to rest it on the trestles; they did so, bowed to him and left.

The air in the hall was tense with anticipation. No one talked or made a sound. Virtually no one moved. All eyes were on Merlin and the shrouded--what?

"I believe you all recognize these two men," he said to the audience. "They have been the gravediggers at Camelot's cemetery for years." The two men, apparently abashed at becoming the center of attention, shifted their weight awkwardly and uneasily.

"Gentlemen," Merlin addressed them, "you have this day performed an extraordinary task at the behest of King Arthur and myself."

They lowered their eyes and muttered, "Yes, sir."

"The king has asked to you perform the reverse of your usual function and to exhume a body which you buried some time ago."

"Yes."

"The earth is frozen and this has been difficult work. But you have accomplished it. And you will be properly rewarded. "

The younger of the two said, "Thank you, sir."

His companion added, "It
was
hard work, sir. Every muscle in our bodies is aching."

"I am certain the king appreciates your labors. But now it is time to explain to the assembled court precisely what your task has been. Could you please say whose body it is that you have been required to exhume?"

No one in the Great Hall moved. People leaned forward to hear more clearly. Lancelot squirmed in his seat. But Merlin kept a careful eye on Mark, who was looking increasingly upset.

On the stage the elder gravedigger shuffled his feet and said, "It was the squire, sir. The king's late squire."

"Which one? Could you please tell us which it was?"

"We don't ever know their names, sir. We just dig the holes and fill them in afterward."

A few people in the audience laughed nervously. Mark inched forward in his seat.

Merlin went on. "But there were two of them. Both of the king's squires were killed, one after the other. And-- you placed them in the same grave?"

"Yes, sir. One of them was horribly mangled, sir--cut to pieces. That's the one that's still at rest in the graveyard. This is the other one."

"This is the body of poor murdered Ganelin, then?"

"Like I said, sir, we never know their names."

"I see. No, I suppose there is no reason why you should. And has the frozen earth preserved the body?"

"Yes, sir. He looks the way he did the day we buried him."

"I see. Thank you very much."

Looking at each other, puzzled by what was going on and why they'd had to speak before the audience, the two men climbed down from the stage and left.

Merlin took up the Stone of Bran, which was still brightly lit. He held it high above him then slowly lowered it and touched the head of the shrouded body with it. Three times he passed it over the length of the boy then he touched it to the head once again.

Slightly, almost imperceptibly, the body twitched.

In the audience some people gasped; most were transfixed by what they were seeing and fell perfectly silent. At the side of the stage Arthur sat and watched, mesmerized.

They watched as the body moved again, first the arms, then the legs, stretching slowly as if waking from a long, deep sleep. Petronus pointed his lenses at it, and the shroud caught the light and glowed ghostly pale.

An arm, caked with dirt and blood, reached out from beneath the shroud. Merlin stepped forward and took the hand in his, and the corpse sat up, still wrapped in its shroud.

"Please," Merlin said gravely, "tell us who you are."

And a voice came clearly through the cloth. "I am Ganelin, squire to King Arthur of Camelot. I am cold."

"Ganelin, do you understand what has happened to you?"

"Yes." The word's final
s
was long and drawn out, almost a hiss. "I have been foully murdered. I have lain in the earth these many weeks, in the icy, frozen earth."

Merlin helped the boy to his feet, the winding-sheet still wrapped around him. And Merlin kept a careful eye on the audience, to gauge reactions. Morgan was watching the stage carefully, studying it as a conjurer might study a rival's tricks. Mordred stood at her side, wide-eyed, not moving. Mark was glowering and trembling in his seat, whether with rage or fear or some combination of the two, Merlin could not tell. Guenevere held Lancelot's hand tightly.

"Tell us, Ganelin," Merlin intoned. "Did you see the face of the the one who killed you?"

"Yesss."

There was not a sound in the Great Hall. Not the least movement, except for Mark, leaning forward in his seat, fingering the hilt of his sword, and Lancelot pulling free of Guenevere's hand and inching forward in his chair like a man preparing to bolt and run.

"Name him. Tell us, Ganelin, who it was. Who killed you and your brother?"

"Ohhh." The corpse groaned. "I cannot. It is too painful."

"I have restored your life. Now I command you, by the Stone of Bran. Name your murderer!"

Suddenly with a loud roar Mark pushed through the audience and leaped onto the stage, brandishing his sword. "No! You are dead. Do not speak my name. Do not profane it with your moldering lips!"

He lunged at the boy, and Merlin pulled him out of harm's way to the side of the stage. Mark swung his sword at Merlin and he ducked.

Arthur jumped to his feet and drew Excalibur. Instantly, the two men, Arthur and Mark, were locked in a duel. They circled one another, they threatened, they slashed. Mark lunged and his sword hit home in Arthur's left arm. Blood flowed, but Arthur recovered himself quickly. He rushed at Mark and knocked him to the stage, then stood over him with Excalibur poised directly above his throat.

More knights rushed the stage, surrounded the prostrate Mark and caught him. He struggled, shouting, "No! This is unholy! The dead cannot speak to the living. The dead cannot
indict
the living. This is blasphemy!"

"Take him away," Arthur said quietly. "To the dungeon. Lock him away." With Mark still struggling fiercely against their hold, they did so.

Away from this action, Merlin placed an arm around the boy in the shroud. And slowly the shroud fell away, revealing him to be the young actor Watson.

The audience, still in shock from Mark's attack and capture, took a moment to react to this. Then, as they gradually realized who the "dead" boy really was, soft, nervous laughter began to spread through the hall. Merlin made a gesture to wave everyone out of the hall, and slowly, by twos, threes and fours, they began to leave.

Nimue, dressed again as Colin, climbed to the stage and put her own arm around the boy. "Go ahead, Merlin. I'll take care of him."

Merlin crossed to Arthur. The king was still excited, still breathing heavily and plainly tense in every muscle. "Arthur, it is over. You can relax now."

"It is not over. I want to know why he did it. Find out for me."

"Calm yourself. We have him. Everything will come out in time."

"Merlin, this is not what I wanted. Not what I tried to build."