“I have returned the sword to Humanity because it has a duty to perform,” said Gayle. “And I have bestowed it on John Taylor because his involvement is necessary. I sent it to the Nightside through the offices of the elf Puck. That one has long owed me a favour, and there aren’t many who can say that. Because he usually kills them rather than remain obligated. I’d been holding on to that favour for centuries, not quite knowing why ... and a good thing I did.
“Only the Puck could smuggle Excalibur into the Nightside, to my chosen bearer, past so many watchful eyes. Too many enemies just now, too many ready to seize the sword for themselves, for good reasons and bad. Too many ready to destroy the sword, for reasons good and bad. And far too many waiting for a chance to take it for themselves, even though it would inevitably destroy them, as not worthy.” She looked at me. “I have granted you a special dispensation for this one time only.”
“I thought as much,” I said. “I keep telling people I’m not worthy, and I should know.”
Actually, I felt rather relieved. I’d had a hard time believing I could be so wrong about myself.
“Puck served me well, at least partly because it appealed to his warped sense of humour,” said Gayle. She sat down elegantly on the stone rim of the well, crossing her long legs neatly and resting her joined hands on the knees. “No-one can better an elf when it comes to sneaking things round. While you were helping smuggle him through the Nightside, John Taylor, he wasn’t only providing a diversion for the elf Peace Treaty. He was also keeping all eyes focused on him because with so much excitement going on, who would notice one small package moving through the mail?”
“Why didn’t he just give it to me?” I said.
“Probably because messing with your head was so much more fun,” said Gayle.
“But why give the sword to Taylor in the first place?” Sir Roland said stubbornly. “Why a man like him? Why not one of us? Any one of us would be happy to bear the burden of Excalibur. We would all die for you, Lady!”
“Exactly,” said Gayle. “I wanted a man who’d live for me. And, to answer your previous question, I couldn’t send the sword here. You’re being watched. You must have noticed.”
The knights looked at each other. Sir Percifal seized his chance to rejoin the conversation. “We knew. Of course we knew. Our security is second to none. Yes. But for all our skills, and all our sources, I have to say ... We are currently unable to ascertain who it is that’s watching us. Yes.”
“We’ve leaned on all the usual unusual suspects,” said Sir Gareth. “And it isn’t any of them.”
“And given how powerful our resources are,” Sir Percifal said doggedly, “it would have to be somebody powerful. Yes. Extremely powerful. And that ... is a very short list. Oh yes.”
“Quite,” said Gayle. “Anyway, John Taylor is my choice to bear Excalibur, and no, you don’t get to bitch about it. He has a destiny to fulfil.”
“Oh bloody hell,” I said loudly. “Not another one. I had a hard enough time getting rid of the last one. What have I got to do now?”
“You will give Excalibur to King Arthur. After you have helped bring him back.”
There was a long silence. The knights all looked at Gayle, then at me. Sir Percifal looked ecstatic. Sir Roland looked like he might have a stroke. Sir Gareth looked ... thoughtful. Gayle smiled enchantingly on one and all. I didn’t say a word. I hadn’t a clue what to say. Sir Roland finally broke the silence, looking like he would explode if he didn’t, but his voice was still barely under control.
“Arthur is coming back? King Arthur? Our long-lost King is finally returning, in our lifetime? You never said anything about this before! What are our regular consultations for if you’re not going to share important information like this? Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Somebody is shouting,” said Gayle, to no-one in particular. “And he’d better knock it off if he doesn’t want me to slap him with an earthquake.”
“Beg pardon, Lady,” said Sir Roland. “I fear I am ... overexcited.”
“Better,” said Gayle. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d all act like a bunch of schoolgirls when you found out you couldn’t be a part of this. You’re too close, too involved. You can’t do what’s necessary.”
“Who has a better right to be involved,” said Sir Percifal, “than those who have spent centuries preserving Arthur’s legacy, ready for his return? Hmm?”
“It has to be Taylor,” said Gayle, not unkindly. “He’s the only one who can do this. Get used to the idea, boys. And no, I can’t tell you why. Not yet. There are ... complications. Sometimes, things have to sort themselves out. So make John Taylor welcome amongst you, in my name. Or do my wishes mean nothing to you any more?”
“You are our Lady,” said Sir Percifal. “Our lives are yours. Yes.”
“Dear Percy,” said Gayle. “You were such a handsome boy. Now be good, boys, for goodness’ sake. And all things shall be made well.”
And then she rose, turned lightly on one foot, and leapt gracefully into the well. She disappeared from sight in a moment, taking all the water in the well with her. Sir Percifal sighed and shook his great head fondly.
“Well, that’s one way to avoid answering questions.” He looked at me with sharp and piercing eyes. “It would seem there’s no getting rid of you. No. That you are ... necessary. So be welcome amongst us while we work out how best we can aid you in your quest. Yes. Stop rumbling, Roland; the decision has been made. Hmm ... Sir Gareth; show Mr. Taylor round the castle. Get to know him. Give him the grand tour but keep him away from anything ... sensitive. Yes. You might bear Excalibur, Mr. Taylor, but you are not one of us. No. No. Off you go, the pair of you. The rest of us have to go off somewhere private and shout a lot.”
Sir Gareth took me on a walking tour of Castle Inconnu. The winding stone corridors seemed to go on forever, passing through halls and chambers and galleries beyond counting. He was happy to point out things of interest and not answer any questions I might have. He was also quite open about the fact that he was keeping me occupied, while the knights decided what the hell they were going to do next. But there were all kinds of interesting things to see, and I had a lot to think about. So I followed Sir Gareth past magnificent murals, through portrait galleries and banqueting halls, and past wonderfully carved fountains, until the sheer scale of things began to depress me. Architecture is all very nice, but you can have too much of a good thing.
“Don’t you have anywhere normal-sized in this castle?” I said finally. “Some of these halls are so big, I feel I should be adjusting my watch for different time zones.”
Sir Gareth chuckled easily. “Oh sure; these are only the public areas, designed to awe and intimidate the casual visitor. We don’t actually use most of this any more, except for the odd game of polo, or the occasional martial re-enactment. We live in the inner quarters, which are built on a far more bearable scale. Much more comfortable; you’d hardly know you were inside a castle. We’ve got Gameboys and everything. I’m afraid you’re not cleared to see the inner quarters yet. Feel free to ask questions, though; and I’ll try not to be too evasive.”
“All right,” I said. “Where is this castle, exactly? It’s not a part of the Nightside, or any of London’s other hidden worlds that I know of.”
“You’re not cleared for that information either. Everything about Castle Inconnu is a secret unless you’re one of us. And even we don’t know everything. We have many enemies, and one of our best safeguards is that no-one knows how to find us. We could be anywhere, any time, and for all I know we are. The Green Door is our only link to London Proper, and you couldn’t get through that Door with an enchanted battering ram. And now King Arthur is coming back ... Well, you can bet everyone up to and including the Grand Master is in major panic mode. Everything we ever dreamed and worked for is finally within our grasp ... and we’re not ready.”
“And possibly ... not worthy?” I said.
“The Lady
gave Excalibur to you and not one of us,” said Sir Gareth. “That has to mean something. That maybe we’ve spent too long hidden away from the world. Some of us will be making the case for war; for taking our fight public, for the first time in centuries. If King Arthur is coming back, perhaps it’s time for the Final Battle against all the evil in the world, when all things shall be decided, once and for all.”
“I’ve been through a lot of battles like that,” I said. “Nothing ever changes.”
“This is different,” insisted Sir Gareth. “King Arthur reborn and returned will be a major player in everything that is happening, perhaps even the Major Player. Especially the upcoming elf civil war.”
“Is that still on?” I said. “What about the Peace Treaty?”
“Didn’t work. No-one ever thought it would. Neither side really wants peace—just some breathing space to muster their forces. Both sides want this war, John. Their survival as a race depends upon it. They’re dying out. No elven children have been born for ages; either in Shadows Fall, under Oberon and Titania, or in the Sundered Lands, under the returned Mab. They will fight their civil war here on Earth, destroying our civilisation in the process, then the surviving elves will take this world for their own again. And thus restore their ... vitality.”
“Could they really wipe us out while divided amongst themselves?” I said.
“Who knows what a species can do with its back against the wall,” said Sir Gareth. “We’ve always known they had weapons beyond our reach or imagination. Either way, it won’t be good for the Earth. Which is probably why the Lady Gaea is getting personally involved for the first time in centuries. I’d be worried if I were the worrying kind.”
“I did hear,” I said, “that the elves chose to leave this world, all those years ago. That they were running from something, and not us.”
“Presumably, things have changed,” said Sir Gareth.
“What makes King Arthur so important to the elves?”
“His stepsister was Morgan Le Fae,” Sir Gareth said simply.
“But who was she? I mean, yes, obviously, the clue is in the name. But was she an elf, a half-elf, or what?”
“Good question,” said Sir Gareth. “If you ever find out, please let us know. We’ve got libraries full of books, from official histories to personal accounts, and none of them can agree on an answer. So much knowledge was lost ... after the fall of Logres and the destruction of Camelot.”
“Merlin told me ... he never believed she was really family to Arthur,” I said.
Sir Gareth looked at me sharply. “Of course; you had dealings with the Satanspawn, in the Nightside. None of us could ever talk to him; the Grand Master would never allow it. He always said Merlin disgraced himself by not being there at Logres when he was needed the most.”
“He did say he regretted that,” I said.
“Not good enough,” Sir Gareth said flatly. “We do not forget, or forgive.”
“I don’t think he gave a damn what you thought about him,” I said. “He had far more serious sins on his conscience. Anyway, he’s dead and gone now.”
Sir Gareth looked at me thoughtfully. “Word is you knew him as well as any man could. You must write us a full report while you’re here, for our records.”
“No,” I said. “He and I were never friends, but ... some things should stay private. You knights made the decision to have nothing to do with him; and I think he’d want me to tell you to go to Hell.”
“Yes,” said Sir Gareth. “That sounds like him.”
We walked on in silence for a while, each of us thinking his separate thoughts. I knew a lot of things about Merlin that I was pretty sure the Knights didn’t. I knew Merlin wasn’t present for the final battle of Logres because he was obsessed with tracking down and killing the missing Morgan Le Fae for her betrayal of Arthur. By the time he was finished with her, and got back, it was all over; and Arthur was dead. Though Merlin did once admit to me that he wasn’t entirely sure Morgan was dead. Could she still be round, and ready to reappear, now that Merlin was gone and Arthur was coming back? One more thing to worry about ... I couldn’t tell the knights any of this; because if Merlin had wanted them to know, he would have told them himself. He must have had his reasons for maintaining his silence.
And I definitely couldn’t tell Sir Gareth that I’d met the living Merlin, back in the sixth century, taken his heart, and brought about his death. Or that while I was there, I’d briefly seen the living King Arthur, in his last communication with Merlin; in a sending, a dream walking, that arrived too late. Some things should be kept private.
Especially as I still wasn’t sure whether I trusted the London Knights yet. Nothing does more harm than a good man doing good in a bad way.
“I’m surprised you guys know so much about me,” I said finally. “I wouldn’t have thought I was important enough to register on your radar.”
“Don’t be disingenuous,” said Sir Gareth. “It doesn’t suit you. We know who you are, and what you are, and what you’ve done. We always said we’d have to do something about you if you ever left the Nightside. Some kind of high explosive, probably. There was a lot of talk about whether we should intervene during the Angel War, then the Lilith War; but we held off. Partly because we really hate getting involved with the Nightside, but mostly because we were curious to see what you would do.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I think.”
“And there have always been those amongst us who think we should ride into the Nightside in force and wipe you all out once and for all.”
“Well,” I said. “You could try ...”
“Quite. We have been keeping a more than usually close eye on the Nightside, recently. Ever since King Artur turned up there from Sinister Albion. That damned and corrupt dimension where a Golden Age was drowned in blood and horror. The only reason we haven’t gone there in force and put everything right the hard way is because we can’t find a way in. That Merlin is still alive, and protecting his own little infernal playground. Which is why we were so interested when King Artur appeared. How did he leave his world and enter the Nightside?”
“A Timeslip, presumably,” I said. “The Nightside is lousy with the things.”
“If so, we haven’t been able to find it. And we looked really hard.”
I gave him a stern look. “You people have been to the Nightside?”
“Hardly. We wouldn’t fit in. We’d be noticed. But we do have certain resources ...”
“Do you know what happened to Artur?” I said. “He seemed to vanish.”
“Haven’t a clue. Do you ... ?”
“No. Do you know why he came to the Nightside?”
“Yes. He wanted to get his hands on our Excalibur and make it his own because the Lady of his world refused him her sword. He was not worthy.”
“But what would Artur want with our Excalibur?”
“If he could seize it by force, and make it serve him, Excalibur would make Artur powerful enough to stand up to his Merlin,” Sir Gareth said patiently. “Artur might be King of Sinister Albion; but he still bows his head to Merlin Satanspawn if he wants to keep his throne.”
“Civil war everywhere you look,” I murmured. “Why can’t people just get along?”
Sir Gareth looked at me sharply. “Both sides of the Fae, and a great many other interested parties, would very much like to know where King Arthur is sleeping. Where his body lies, hidden and protected. Including us.”
“You don’t know?” I said, honestly surprised.
“We’ve never known. Whoever put Arthur to rest, dead or sleeping, went to great pains to hide him from everyone, friends and enemies alike. The London Knights have spent centuries searching, to no avail. And we only wanted to protect him. Many others would give everything they possess to discover Arthur’s hiding-place. Because whoever controls him potentially controls everything else. He is the greatest hero and warrior this world has ever known.”
“I take it we’re
not only talking about the good guys here,” I said. “The bad guys want him, too?”
“Of course. Artur from Sinister Albion was corrupted by his Merlin. For all his many qualities, Arthur was just a man. He could be swayed, turned, dominated by an outside force. Excalibur was never the most powerful weapon in Camelot; that was always Arthur. And as he goes ... so goes the world.”
“I never know whether we’re talking about history or legend when it comes to Arthur,” I said. “Most of the stories say he was taken away, to sleep in Avalon.”
“What is Avalon?” said Sir Gareth. “Only a name. In the whole existence of our order, we’ve never found any place or any land called Avalon. No-one knows where Arthur is. And before you ask, no, he couldn’t be in Shadows Fall. That’s where legends go to die when the world stops believing in them; and the world still believes in Arthur. But now Excalibur has come back into the world, the chase is on. Everyone will be after Arthur; and it’s vital for the good of everybody that we get there first.”
I didn’t say anything. But I did wonder if perhaps certain elements inside the London Knights might not prefer it if Arthur were to stay sleeping, even if found. That they might even take steps to ensure he never awoke. Because if he did, would he approve of what the London Knights had become? Of all the things they’d done, and made of themselves, in the fifteen hundred years since Logres? They may have meant well; but we all know what road is paved with good intentions.
We moved on, into the Hall of Forgotten Beasts. A long hall whose walls were decorated with the severed, stuffed, and mounted heads of fantastical creatures that were no longer a part of history. The only remaining examples of hundreds, maybe thousands, of exotic beasts. I walked slowly past row upon row of glassily staring, slack-jawed heads. Some I recognised, some I’d heard of, and some that were perhaps completely unknown now, outside of Castle Inconnu.
“For a long time, hunting was a central part of knightly tradition,” said Sir Gareth. “We don’t do it any more, of course. We’re all conservationists now. But we still take a pride in this hall. It took brave men to hunt these beasts and bring them down.”
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