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“I never knew you had such a dark view of humanity.”

“I’m a deposed king. First there were flatterers and hypocrites at court. Now there are all the ones who pretend pity and compassion. Who could see humanity more clearly?”

Mad in only one direction. Indeed. “I’ve never gotten to know you, Pellenore. I think I’d like to.”

“Be careful. The dragons devour everyone who gets near me.”

“Should I wear armor?”

“Should Arthur?”

“There have been times, now and then, Pellenore, when people have suggested you’re not as unhinged as most of us like to imagine. I’ve had that thought myself. I wish I knew.”

“The ogres plant those thoughts. I’m mad as a rabbit in March. What do you know about Rome?”

“Rome?” He wished the old man’s conversation was easier to follow. “It is the capital of Italy. But not the glorious place it once was. The Goths have overrun it and destroyed most of what was beautiful. Pellenore, you’re a classicist, like me.”

“I’m not anything like you, and you are not like me. People distrust you, Merlin. If you go around saying things like that, it will only get worse. Most people find knowledge suspect. People think you’re in league with the dark powers. They merely think me insane.”

“Perhaps I should chase a few beasts myself.”

“Perhaps you should. Good-bye.”

He whipped his imaginary horse and sped off down the hall.

Merlin watched him go, thinking that there must be some way of discovering exactly how addled the man was. And whether he was capable of murder. And, if he was, whether his mind was sound enough for him to be held accountable for it.

Certainly he seemed, in his peculiar way, to have a sensible,coherent view of the world. It simply didn’t correspond to anyone else’s. Is that what madness is?

He felt hungry and went to the refectory. There wasn’t normally much activity there except at mealtimes, but he thought he should be able to scrape up a snack. The place was empty except for Nimue, who was eating a large bowl of soup and a small loaf of bread. She smiled and waved at him.

“Colin. I didn’t think I’d find anyone here but the kitchen servants, if them. It isn’t lunchtime.”

“You’d be lucky to find them. There are so many little pantries and hidey-holes. It took me ten minutes to find someone to heat up my soup.” She ate. “What did Arthur say?”

“About…?”

“Don’t be foxy. I know you were going to talk to him about Ganelin’s chart. And about the status of the investigation. ” Some soup dribbled down her chin; not having a napkin, she wiped it with her sleeve. “Such as it is. If you catch sight of one of the maids or the kitchen boys, flag her or him down for me, will you?”

Merlin sat beside her and tore a piece of her bread for himself. “He wants us to go ahead with it.”

“Us?”

“Us. You’re to assist me. And Brit is to work with us.”

“The three of us. If we were all women, we’d be like the Fates, closing in on a guilty man.”

“You’ve been reading Greek tragedy. You’re learning.”

“I have to please a stern old teacher.”

He laughed. “This bread is dry. Don’t they have anything fresher? And I think Greffys may be joining our little party, too.”

"Greffys? You’re joking. Even for a squire, he’s… well, you know.”

“Yes, I know. But we’re going to need someone who’s on good terms with the cooks and valets and maids and so on, and that pretty much means one of the squires.”

“I know some of the servants. And I think Brit does, too.”

“It’s not the same thing. The squires are half servants themselves. But believe me, if we don’t need Greffys, I certainly won’t use him.”

“I mean, not to speak ill of the dead, but Ganelin wasn’t exactly an intellectual. But he was Aristotle compared to Greffys.”

“He’s a boy, Colin.”

“So am I.” She sneered sarcastically.

“I think we’re definitely going to be traveling. Give some thought to what you want to take.”

“To Corfe, to corner Guenevere?”

He nodded. “Or Lancelot, or whichever one of her minions looks to be guilty.”

“Do I have to go to Morgan’s realm, too? I’d rather not.”

“I hadn’t thought of it, but it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to take you there. No sense taking the chance someone might recognize you.”

“Thanks.” She was plainly relieved. “When do we get started?”

“First thing tomorrow, if Brit is free then. Or now, if you’d rather.” He unrolled the chart on the dining table. “I keep looking for a pattern in this.”

“Maybe there is none.”

“That would be our luck. One thing stands out, though. The crosses, Xs and stars are all on one side of the Great Hall.”

“If it is the Great Hall, Merlin. I mean, I know it looks like it, but I knew Ganelin better than you did. That could just as easily be a diagram of some damn fool sports thing he was thinking about.”

“That’s exactly what we need. A positive attitude.”

She shrugged. “I’m only trying to be helpful.”

He focused on the chart. “But these triangles-they’re spread out all around. See?”

She studied it. “You’re right. On both sides of the hall and in every corridor.”

“Only one creature goes gadding about the castle that way. I think the triangles must represent Pellenore.”

Her soup was getting cold. She picked up her bowl and drank it off. “That makes sense. As much sense as anything about Pellenore can. I’m still hungry.”

“You’re a growing boy.” He smiled a sweetly sardonic smile. “I just ran into Pellenore in the hall, on my way here. We had the oddest exchange. His lunacy has always struck me as lightweight. But he was saying the strangest things. He’s smarter than I ever thought, and better educated, and even more perceptive, in his way.”

“So how do we verify that the triangles are his? I mean, a crazy old man…And he’s been here for a thousand years, hasn’t he? Who would remember him from before?”

“I knew him then, slightly. But he went mad almost at once after Arthur defeated him and took everything away from him. There was never much chance to decide what I thought of him before-before he-” He made a twisting gesture.

“It’s all ancient history to me. Where were his lands?”

Merlin looked surprised. “You don’t know? They were here.” He pointed downward, emphatically. “Camelot was his castle, and the shires around it were his domain.”

Nimue whistled. “I had no idea.”

“No one your age ever understands anyone older. The world began when you were born, didn’t it?”

“Don’t be condescending, Merlin. But then, there must still be-”

“Exactly what I was thinking. There must still be people here who served in his household. People who knew him then and know him now and understand what happened to his mind.”

“Were any of Arthur’s knights his?”

He wrinkled his brow. “I’ve never followed the knights’ dongs all that closely. It’s possible. Brit will know, or Arthur will. But there must be someone here.”

“Who knows him now? Who does he confide in?”

“Heaven knows.” He took the last of the bread and bit into it. “The dragons, I suppose.”

“I’m still hungry. Where are the bloody servants?”

“Off in those pantries you mentioned, sleeping.”

“Damn. I want more soup.”

“Do we need servants for that? There’s a fire in the hearth. I could use some, too.”

And so the next morning Britomart met the two of them in Merlin’s study. She was half-asleep and kept yawning then excusing herself.

“Bad night, Brit?” Nimue was full of energy. “You should be wide awake and ready for work, like me.”

“Be quiet. If there’s anything worse than a morning person, it’s a self-righteous morning person.”

Merlin got between then and recapped for Brit what they had deduced about Ganelin’s chart. “If we can match our four suspects to the four kinds of symbols…” He smiled and let the thought finish itself.