by Tony Hays
Ambrosius walked up, a pair of soldiers at the ready behind him. “Malgwyn, you must bring this affair to a close quickly. I have delayed the consilium from voting on a successor until this is over. I do not want a shadow clouding their minds at such a time.”
“I will do all that I can, Rigotamos. But I promise nothing.” Above all things, I desired a jug of mead or wine or anything to blot out the task Arthur had laid upon me.
“You will succeed, Malgwyn,” Arthur said. “Not for the people. Not for me. Not for the memory of Eleonore. A puzzle such as this is a personal challenge to you, and you will master it or die trying.”
A clattering of hooves drew my attention away from Arthur. ’Twas the rider come to speed the heart to Eleonore’s burial and now grown impatient with the crowd to disperse so that he might be on his journey. I looked around and saw a slave boy holding the leather bundle at arm’s length. I took it from him and handed it up to the rider.
“What is this?”
“Never mind. Just take it to Camel, to the burial of the maiden. Have it placed in the grave with her.”
The soldier looked at Arthur for his approval and received a nod. “Do as he says.”
Jerking hard on the reins, the rider sent the horse leaping to the side, almost stamping me with his tremendous hooves and forcing me down to the ground yet again, my cheek pressed against the cold stones.
From that odd vantage point something caught my eye. I cared not that I’d been knocked down yet again.
Arthur was shouting something at the rider, but he was gone, galloping down the lane and out of sight. I was more interested in the large black stain on the stone in front of me. A bloodstain four or five feet distant from where Eleonore’s mutilated body had lain.
I rose to my knees and looked for more.
A few feet away was another.
And beyond that another.
“Malgwyn!”
“Later, my lord.” I had no time for Arthur’s orders. “This could be important. Kay, come with me.”
With Arthur spluttering in the lane, I followed the trail of bloodstains along the cobblestones. I had not seen them the night before because of the darkness. Even now they were almost invisible on the damp and sometimes mud-covered stones. But drying blood shines, and the clear liquid that separates from man’s blood shone also in the cracks of the stones.
“This way!” I shouted to Kay. Now that I knew what to look for, following the stains was as simple as tracking a deer through a dew-dampened field.
The trail led us around to the rear of Arthur’s hall, and beyond that the few yards to the base of the great watchtower. The tower stood on four great legs, braced with sturdy logs crossed on each of the four sides. The guards’ path ran behind the tower, and I knew that they had a small shelter there to fend off the sometimes biting wind.
The path of blood did not go to the guards’ refuge, rather underneath the tower itself. There, in the perpetual shade of the great structure, I found what I had been seeking. Great masses of blackened blood covered the ground and bits of entrails as well. A dog had sniffed out the cache and was licking at its edges. Kay kicked it, and I raised my hand, willing the sight from my vision as the whimpering dog scampered away.
“So this is where it happened,” Kay whispered. I remembered then that he had loved the girl. I had been alone so long that I ofttimes thought little of others’ feelings. It was not a trait of which I was proud.
“Kay, why don’t you fetch Accolon? I can seek out what needs to be found here. I will need to speak to him once more.”
Relief was evident in his voice. “Are you certain, Malgwyn?”
I nodded. “Go. Bring him to me here.”
Kay gladly left me alone with the lifeblood of Eleonore hardening on the ground. I could see now that she had been killed here. Some strands of her hair clung to one of the tower’s legs, just at head level, as if she had leaned back against it. Her footprints, smaller than those surrounding her, moved about, and I could tell by the depth of the impressions that she had been moving under her own strength. I saw too the faintest impression of her body, lying back on the ground at the rear of the tower. Whoever had picked her up—and I saw at least two sets of prints—had stood her and carried her between them. Therein lay the reason for the puddle of blood and bits of entrails. They had spilled out of the mighty wound in her body.
I searched carefully up and down the tower’s leg where her hair had caught. Near the snagged hair was a smear of blood—hers, I believed—telling me that someone had pushed her head forcefully against the wooden upright, just as they might if they were strangling her. The scene began to take shape in my mind with clarity.
She met someone here, either on her own or forcibly. He strangled her. For some horrible reason, he laid her lifeless body back on the ground, ripped her open and removed her heart. Then several men stood her up and, propping her body between them, walked her to Merlin’s house, where they left her in the lane. At least two, if not three or more, were involved in the affair. This much the blood, the entrails, the footprints, the dab of blood and hair told me. This much I could prove to any man in a fair and dispassionate hearing.
But the people were not inclined to be dispassionate at that moment. Simply proving that Merlin had not committed this act would be of little use. I knew that I would need to hand them another culprit to satisfy their anger.
Kay returned as I was musing. “Accolon has disappeared, Malgwyn. He is nowhere to be found, and no one has seen him since the formation this morning. I searched his home and neither he nor Nyfain were there.”
Accolon gone! He was a key witness in this affair. To kill and rape a serving girl, aye, such happened all too often in these times. But for Eleonore to be killed and butchered, not raped, on the night the consilium first met to choose a new Rigotamos, all to place the blame at Merlin’s feet. Something more was at play here.
“Come, Kay.”
“What shall we do?”
“Someone, somewhere, saw Accolon this morning. We will talk to everyone in the castle if we must. He has to be found.”
Once more in the lane, Kay and I visited each house in the town. No one could remember seeing Accolon or any soldier since earlier that morning. For a big, brawling bully of a man, he was talented at disappearing.
With Arthur’s blessing, we raised the alarum for Accolon. Patrols were sent forth to scour the countryside for him. Next, we attacked the barracks and talked with his fellows, but they too could tell us nothing. Finally, at the gate near the old Roman village, we found a soldier on patrol.
“Aye,” he said. “I saw Accolon after formation this morning. He left the castle through this gate, on foot.”
“Did you see where he went?”
“No, only that he moved quickly. And he looked about him constantly, as if he were afraid he would be followed.”
“You did not speak?”
“No, I rarely speak to Accolon, and he’s a strange one anyway. Keeps much to himself.”
I excused the soldier, and we continued questioning the people that lived in the huts just beyond the gates. We found out nothing new and returned to the castle to report to Arthur.
“Think you that Accolon did this thing, Malgwyn?” Arthur asked. We were in his private chambers at the great hall. Before him lay the plan for his new church, the one that remained unfinished because Coroticus would not bless it. I smiled at the thought. Coroticus was demanding lower taxes for the abbey before giving his blessing. Arthur refused. Neither would budge. Each was true to his own nature.
Arthur’s chambers were simple, as befitted the warrior he had been. His shield hung upon one wall, and his mighty sword, a gift from Ambrosius Aurelianus, lay across the table, holding down the plans.
“I do not know, my lord,” I answered. “But I know that he has much to answer for, and if we can throw a light upon him, perhaps the people will turn their attentions away from Merlin.”
Arthur sighed
. His eyes were sad, and more wrinkles ravaged his face than had the night before. “Tell me what you know.” No command marked his tone; he was making a simple request.
“I know more than I did; that is for certain. She met a man at the northeast gate on the Via Caedes about the midnight. Then she went to the watchtower, either with the same person or another person. I will tell you only what actions that I know occurred. I will not speculate on the causes. She was backed against one of the posts and her head bashed hard. She was strangled. Then more than one person laid her back on the ground and then is when she was butchered. These same people stood her up between them and walked her to Merlin’s house where they left her lying in the street.”
Arthur shook his great, shaggy head. “And the woman Nyfain?”
“I do not know what her disappearance means, if anything. She may be lying abed with some soldier. Or, Accolon could have killed her. As yet we know nothing of her, only that poor young Owain tried and failed to find her the night before. Nor have we been any more successful today. The only thing that ties her to this affair is that she claimed that Eleonore told her of a plot to assassinate someone. There may be something to it, as Owain too says that Eleonore hunted for me last night.”
“Malgwyn,” Arthur began in that voice I knew too well, “you must hurry. You saw for yourself today how the people are ready for revolt. I have reports today that rumors of Merlin and the murder have spread to the small villages. The lanes are becoming clogged with people heading to town, and I think they are not coming to trade for goods or to pay homage to the consilium.”
“My lord, I can only move as fast as information comes to me. I think if we find Accolon that much may be made clear.”
“Were my servants any help?”
“Only one, the girl Nimue. She—”
“The boy was insolent. Sell him, my lord!” Kay interrupted.
Arthur rested a hand on Kay’s shoulder. “You know I will not do that. I will have him spoken to, though. He is trying.” He rose before I could plead Nimue’s case. “I believe strongly in you, Malgwyn. Do not fail me.”
“This I can tell you for certain. Merlin did not do this. He has not the strength. Proving that to the satisfaction of the people may not be easy. Arthur, we will need to question Tristan and perhaps other members of the consilium.”
“They will be offended.”
“If my task is as important as you say, then let them be offended. We must have the truth and one of them may hold some of that truth.”
“Then, on with your chores. You have my commission as iudex pedaneous. Ambrosius will concur and grant you his commission as Rigotamos. Question who you must. I must meet with the builders for my church.”
And so young Tristan and the other members of the consilium were our next stop. They had taken quarters in camps surrounding the massive castle with its wooden and rock ramparts, and we found the most of them in the camp of Vortimer, casting die and playing at swords. The encampments were not large; most members had only brought a single troop of cavalry. Anything larger would have rendered their intentions questionable.
Vortimer, Lauhiir, and David were eating a midday meal around their campfire, no vegetables, I noticed, just roast pig. The servants here were all male slaves. Vortimer would allow no female slaves in his marching camp. They were a distraction and served only to slow the troops down. The success of our forces lay in their ability to move swiftly and strike hard. Vortimer saw no place for women in that strategy.
Off to one side, Tristan and Mordred were practicing their swordplay. A young blue-eyed lord whose name I could never remember was throwing spears. Mordred lived in the castle and had a house there, though he had but recently returned from a tour of our eastern border with the Saxons. But on this day, he was spending his time with the visiting lords.
Leaning back at our approach, Vortimer patted his belly. “Come, Malgwyn and Lord Kay, sit and share our simple fare.”
As we had not eaten since early that morning, we sat against logs piled around the campfire. The morning still held something of a chill, though the springtime was beginning to dispel the cold, and the green grass was marked still by the silvery glint of frost. I reached out and tore some meat from the pig roasting on the fire.
“Tell me, Malgwyn, have you found anything in this affair of the girl yet?” Vortimer asked, belching and reaching for a jug of mead.
“I have found many things, my lord. But none that leads me down a straight path to the truth.” I waved off the mead jug as it came my way. This was one audience where I knew that my survival depended on my wits.
“Seems obvious to me,” Lauhiir said. He had just been appointed to fortify the great tor at Ynys-witrin. His ancestors had worn the purple, it was said, and Roman ancestry was highly regarded. “The crazy old man killed her. Just shows that Arthur will play favorites.”
“Do not all men?” I asked.
“The proper noble will champion truth and justice, not crazy old men with insane ideas.” Since I knew that Coroticus had just paid a hefty bribe to Lauhiir to keep the abbey open, this pronouncement seemed a little out of place.
“Hmm. Have any of you seen Accolon the soldier, husband of Nyfain?”
Lauhiir and Mordred looked at each other. Vortimer made a point of not looking at any of them. “I saw him last night,” Lord David said. “But not afterward. Is he missing?” His question was so innocent sounding as to almost make me laugh.
“It matters not. He will appear sooner or later,” I answered.
“Lord Tristan?” I said, so suddenly the young man dropped his sword.
“Aye?”
“I understand you showed a special interest in the dead maiden.”
If a man’s face could be said to be white, Tristan’s was. “I thought she was interesting, one to bed.” His false bravado trembled in his voice. From the corner of my eye, I saw Kay tighten at Tristan’s words.
“Did you see her last eve?”
“Only at the feasting.” That tremor in his voice quavered still. He was lying, but that alone did not mean he had killed her.
“Not afterward?”
“No. Only then.”
I nodded sagely. “She was seen later with a hooded man. I thought you might have arranged a liaison with her.”
“N-n-no,” he stammered.
He had seen her. That much was certain from his lies. His eyes gave him away. But still, it did not prove that he was the killer. Honestly, I could not see him as such a butcher, but looks alone often were mistaken. Panic had driven many a man to butchery.
“So you retired alone after the feasting?”
“No,” he stammered. “I drank with Lords Lauhiir and Mordred until very late.”
“You did not go with them, Lord Vortimer?”
He laughed a deep, throaty laugh. “I am too old to keep up with these young ones, Malgwyn. I came back here until the discovery of the girl’s body. When the alarm was sounded, I mustered a squad of men and went to see if I could help. When the excitement settled, I returned here and retired.”
“Why all the questions, Malgwyn?” Lord David asked. “Surely you do not suspect a member of the consilium in this madness.”
Before I had time to respond, help came from an unexpected quarter. “Now, now, David,” Vortimer began. “Malgwyn is just fulfilling his duties as iudex. I, for one, welcome his questions. I would see the doer of this deed brought to justice.”
“You are too kind, Lord Vortimer. I am but a common man set an uncommon task.”
“Humility does not become you, Malgwyn. We have fought side by side too many times. I know something of the affair at the abbey. You have skills that other men do not possess. I would ask just one thing.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Seek out the truth no matter where it leads.”
His intent was obvious, but little did he know that I had warned Arthur that I would do just that. “Of that, you can be certain. Lord Kay and I have w
ork left to do, and we have taken up too much of your time.”
The old man was my next stop. They had moved Merlin to a storage building next to the barracks where he could be imprisoned without having to be tied to a post. I paused at the door as Kay unfastened its latch, then recoiled as the smell of human filth blasted out.
“Find another place for Merlin. No man should have to live like this.” I sent one of the guards off on the errand.
“Malgwyn, is that you?” A cracking voice emerged from the blackness.
“Aye, Merlin. It is. Come forward, old friend.” I didn’t worry too much about his safety in the confines of the barracks.
The ancient fellow stepped out gingerly and blinked his eyes at the sunlight. “That’s better.” He rubbed a wrinkled hand across his forehead. His scraggly white locks framed his face as he nodded his approval. “Is all this nonsense over? Can I go back to my house? I have work to do.”
“No, Merlin. The people are enraged. They think that you killed Eleonore, and they want your blood as payment.”
He blinked with milky-white eyes. “She was but a child, Malgwyn. I wouldn’t harm her.” His voice rang soft and weak, and truthful to my ears.
“I do not believe that you did, Merlin. But many others do. Vortimer and the rest have enraged the people against you.” Merlin’s lips firmed in the same straight line that Owain’s had, and I thought for a second how much they looked like each other, the old man and the child. “Arthur cannot help me, for that would cancel out his talk of equality and justice, his Christian principles.” The eyes that looked so milky and old before stared at me straight and hard. “You are his answer. He has placed my life in your hands.”
“They are good hands, Master Merlin,” Kay hurried to say in the pause that yawned open, but the old man waved him away with a shaky hand.