“Colin, I don’t much like it here.”
“Really?” She feigned surprise. “I’ve always thought Guenevere’s court must be wonderful.”
“She’s a tyrant. Or as much of one as she can be with no money. There’s nothing here, nothing interesting. And no room for advancement. My mother is an old friend of hers. She thought sending me here would ensure my future. Instead…” He looked away from her, apparently embarrassed.
“I didn’t get the sense you’re so ambitious, Petronus.”
“Is worrying about my future ambition, then?”
“No, of course not.”
“I’d… I’ve thought about leaving here. More than once.” He still avoided looking at her. “I want to go to Camelot, Colin. That’s where the future lies.”
She pretended this was unexpected. Slowly, deliberately, she said, “I’ll talk to Merlin about it.”
“Will he take me?”
“I think he might be persuaded. But… but you say there’s nothing here. Surely that can’t be true. We saw King Leodegrance last night. And King Mark of Cornwall was here. There must be room for an enterprising young man.”
“Leodegrance is Guenevere’s father. She’s borrowing money from him.”
“Things are that bad?”
He nodded.
“And what about Mark of Cornwall? He’s not in the business of lending money.”
“I don’t know. Whatever he wanted, he didn’t get it. There were arguments. He left angry and disappointed, I think. At least that’s the gossip.”
“Interesting.” She changed the topic. “Maybe we can walk down to the town and get something to eat there.”
“It’s getting late. I have duties. Polishing Lancelot’s armor. ” He sounded embarrassed.
“You work under Lancelot? Are you his squire? I didn’t know.”
“Mm-hmm. I don’t like him. He doesn’t like me. He’s supposed to be training me for knighthood, but he uses me as a servant, nothing more. He likes to look good for his women, so I have to keep his armor gleaming.”
“Women? I thought he and the queen…”
“Yes. She thinks so, too. But he is unfaithful to her every chance he gets. Will you talk to Merlin for me?”
She assured him she would, and he went off to do his polishing.
The sunny day brought a great many people out in Corfe. The streets were crowded, and everyone seemed to be in a pleasant mood. This might be the last sweet day before winter settled in, and winter on the coast was harsh.
Brit and Lancelot strolled the streets, chatting idly. He kept trying to take her hand. She kept pulling away. It was annoying him, and he let it show.
But Brit refused to acknowledge his amorous interests. “It just struck me-the streets here aren’t paved.”
He frowned. “Should they be?”
“I had the impression the Romans paved roads wherever they went. Even a dreary backwater like London has streets paved with stone.”
“The Romans? That might as well have been a thousand years ago.”
The harbor opened up before them. Leodegrance’s ship and the frigate they’d seen earlier had been joined by another, from the looks of it North African, possibly Moroccan. Brit commented on the wide, lively trade that flourished in Corfe. “All Europe must come here, sooner or later.”
“Who knows. Are you hungry?”
“Famished.”
“Good. There’s a first-rate inn just up ahead.”
They went inside and found the place crowded with patrons. But the owner recognized Lancelot and found them a table at once. He ordered wine, beef and vegetables for them.
“I hope you like wine, Britomart.”
“I’m from Camelot. We drink it like water.”
“Good. And afterward…” He looked straight into her eyes. “I’d like to get to know you better.”
“I thought we were already doing that.”
A server brought large cups of wine. They drank quickly and Brit asked for more.
“You know what I mean. I’d like to get to know you… intimately.” For an instant he sounded like a shy schoolboy.
"Why, Lancelot, I thought you were the queen’s…what would be the word? Consort?”
“Choose the word you like. We are devoted to each other. But I grew up on a French farm. The example of the rooster is not lost on me.”
She put on a shocked expression and ordered a third round of wine. It was beginning to show on him, though it was not on her.
“So you mean to tell me you cheat on Guenevere?”
“What the queen doesn’t know won’t hurt the knight.”
“But… well, I mean, she is the queen. She does have the power. Crossing her might… well, you know.”
“She trusts me.”
“Women can be such fools. But you seem to have her fooled, all right. I watched you the night of that ceremony at Camelot. You looked at her so adoringly.”
“And then I snuck off.”
“You don’t mean to tell me you… then? I mean, who did you find?”
He shrugged as if to wonder if it made a difference. “Some little girl in the kitchen.”
“You’re joking. So.” She made her voice hard. “You value me at the same price as a kitchen servant.”
He was really feeling the drink, and it showed. “I never said that.”
“You did. Fortunately, I value myself higher than that.”
He sulked. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
“No, of course not. Men never do.”
“This wine is strong. Aren’t you feeling it?”
She smiled sweetly. “I’m not one of King Arthur’s knights for nothing. The only one I know who can outdrink me,” she told him pointedly, “is Mark of Cornwall.”
“A fool. Why he came here with his damn fool scheme-”
She leaned back casually and put a leg over the edge of the table. “What scheme is that?”
Suddenly, he seemed to realize what was going on. He narrowed his eyes and peered at her. “When are you going back to Camelot?”
“That’s up to Merlin.”
“Go soon. Women should never be knights.”
With that, he got up and stomped out of the inn. A moment later the server came with food for two. Brit ate hers happily, then tucked into his. She was stuck paying for it, but it had been well worth it.
“So. What do we know?”
It was well after dark. Merlin, Nimue and Brit sat by a huge fire in the Common Room at the garrison, drinking mulled wine. After the day’s events, Merlin decided he’d feel more comfortable there. And there was the fact that their horses and luggage were there; they’d be able to make a quicker start in the morning. Besides, he was still not certain where they stood with Guenevere. So just after sunset they made their way to one of the ruined wings of her castle and slipped unobtrusively out and down to the town.
Dalley was relieved to see them. “When you didn’t come back last night I was concerned, even with that note you sent.”
He went off to arrange for sleeping quarters for them- the usual room for Merlin and Colin and a second one for Britomart. They relaxed and took stock of the situation at Corfe.
“First, we know that Guenevere needs money and blames Arthur for it, rightly or wrongly. The situation is so bad, people are leaving her service, or want to.” Merlin ticked off the points on his fingers. “Second, Lancelot claims he was, er, becoming acquainted with a kitchen girl when Borolet was killed. So we need to question the cook staff when we get back. And third, Mark is up to something. No one will say what.”
“Maybe Arthur sent him for some reason.” Nimue was out of her depth and knew it.
“It’s possible, Colin, but I don’t think so. Arthur knew we were coming here. If he was sending Mark, too, he’d have mentioned it.”
Brit looked thoughtful. “That makes sense, but-”
“But?”
“We all know Mark. He’s always been solid and dependable. Why would he be acting like this?”
At that moment Dalley rejoined them. “Your quarters are ready.”
“Excellent. It’s been a long, tiring day.” Merlin started to stand up.