Untitled by Unknown Author Page B

wrapped the corpses in soft cloth; in the morning he would bury them.
       There came a knock at the door. "Yes?"
       It was one of Arthur's guards. "Something . . . strange has happened, sir."
       He was holding the cloth with the corpses of his pets. "What? What else?"
       "Else, sir?"
       "What happened?"
       "We got the king back to his bedchamber. He insisted on undressing himself. When we went back a few moments later to put him to bed, I pulled back the covers. And there in the bed was a bloody knife. Bloody and with . . . with . . . well, I know it sounds odd, sir, but . . ."
       "Get to the point, will you?"
       "Well . . . there were black feathers sticking to the blade."
       It was a warning; Merlin knew it. But a warning to who—to him, or to Arthur? Or both? He thanked the guard and sent him back to the king's tower. Then he crawled into bed.
       But sleep would not come. After a time he sat up and cradled the dead birds in his arms. And softly he murmured over and over again, "I must think. I must think."

    Summer stretched on, and as fall approached the prepara­ tions for the queen's birthday became more and more in­ tense, more and more focused.
       No one had seen anyone awake and moving about the castle the night the birds were killed. The killer might have been anyone. Brit increased Arthur's security again and assigned a bodyguard to Merlin as well. Arthur remem­ bered nothing of that night, nothing at all.
       It was the warmest, loveliest summer anyone could re­ member. Crops were abundant; the grape harvest was the largest ever, with the plumpest, sweetest grapes on record; beehives overflowed with honey. Even the fishing fleets at Corfe and Dover reported larger than average catches. The assembled diplomats would not want for good food and drink.
       Nimue made frequent trips between Camelot and Corfe, overseeing the repair work, making certain sufficient stores were laid in for the event, monitoring the activities of Guenevere and Lancelot, and coordinating everything with Captain Dalley, who had proved resourceful and efficient. Britomart was there frequently, too, planning security and meeting secretly with Dalley and Petronilla.
       The would-be royal couple had been complacent, for the most part, except for Lancelot's halfhearted attempts at escape and a few peculiar letters to Guenevere's parents in France. Once Lancelot tried to sneak out of the castle in the cart of a fishmonger, under a load of mackerel that had been rejected by the castle cook. He was caught at the front gate of the castle by one of Captain Dalley's guards, who no­ ticed that the dead fish seemed to be moving. The jokes at the French knight's expense didn't let up for weeks.
       At Camelot Merlin took over the diplomatic end of things as the conference drew closer and the various mat­ ters became more pressing. Assisted by Nimue, he kept up an active correspondence with the various courts who were sending legates. As the event began to draw near, their de­ mands became more and more supercilious. This king de­ manded fresh bottles of wine for his people every second hour; that petty ruler wanted chambermaids with blond hair; and on and on. Merlin handled it all as delicately as he could without making any promises. Everyone, he assured them, would be treated with due deference, dignity and respect.
       From Byzantium and Podarthes there had been no fur­ ther correspondence directed to Guenevere at Corfe. No one knew what to make of that. Was it possible Justinian had learned somehow that she and Lancelot had been jailed? It seemed the likeliest explanation; Byzantine spies were everywhere.
       All of this happened despite Arthur, who was drinking regularly and heavily. He kept late hours and often woke this courtier or that one in the middle of the night to be reassured that he was a good king, that his polices were just, that he was loved by all his people if not by