Uncertainly, thrown off balance by what the bishop knew, Arthur told him, “It is.”
Merlin added, “You have assembled a remarkably efficient intelligence machine in your time here, Gildas.”
Gildas was serene. “The Lord enlightens me.”
“Yes, I’m sure he does. The Lord, plus a few paid operatives. Who do you have on your payroll?”
John interjected, “Don’t be absurd, Merlin. Just look at him. It is clear that Bishop Gildas spends all his money on silk from China.”
Gildas stiffened. Once again he turned to the king. “I should like to see this so-called Stone of Bran, Your Majesty.”
“See it?” Arthur was deadpan. “What on earth for?”
“Word has it that the thing is demonic. I should like to ascertain that for myself.”
“You can tell by merely looking at it?”
Serenely Gildas replied, “I can.”
Without saying a word, Arthur sighed, got to his feet and gestured that they all should follow him. He led them into his private den. A guard was on duty there. In an enormous glass-fronted wooden cabinet were Arthur’s treasures-the crown jewels, the sword Excalibur and, at a central place in the display, a gleaming crystal skull.
“There,” Arthur said. “The Stone.”
John asked, “Can you see Satan’s fingerprints on it?”
Gildas glared at him, then stooped to examine the skull more closely. “Legend has it,” Merlin said helpfully, “that it was carved by the god Bran himself. Some people even believe it is the god’s own skull.”
Gildas leaned even closer to the glass. “May I hold it?”
“You may not.” Arthur put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back from the cabinet. “The palace jewelers have polished it to a high gloss. I don’t want anyone smudging it up.”
“But, Your Majesty-”
“That is enough. You wanted to see it and you have. What is your opinion?”
“My opinion,” the bishop announced importantly, “is that Morgan is right. For the wrong reasons, as usual, but the Stone must be replaced where it was found. Its presence here-”
“Among all these tempting jewels and all this valuable gold,” John said.
But Gildas ignored him and went on. “Its presence here is blasphemous. The Most High is displeased. Return it, and the plague will end.”
This left Merlin reeling. “You are not serious, are you? You and Morgan-actually agreeing on something? On a religious matter?”
Serenely Gildas announced, “Even a blind pig can find an acorn.”
John snorted at him, doing a perfect imitation of a pig. “You are referring to yourself, aren’t you, Bishop?”
Gildas faced the king. “The Lord has spoken. Camelot must be freed from the baleful influence of this pagan thing. England must be rid of it.”
“You are serious.” Merlin had had a moment to reflect. “You are really serious. You believe this preposterous skull caused plague to erupt in Dover?”
“Great is the power of the Lord.”
“Of course.”
“Well. That settles it.” Arthur looked grave. “It is clear what we must do. Both Morgan and Gildas say so. I don’t understand it, Merlin. I doubt if even Gildas, here, does. But it is clear this stone has brought a curse down upon England.”
“From which god or gods, precisely?”
“Stop it, Merlin. I will have Simon prepare a travel party. Perceval will come along; we will need him to show us the exact spot where he found the skull.” To Merlin and John he added, “And I will want the two of you to accompany us.”
“No, Arthur.” Merlin spoke firmly. “I should remain here, to coordinate the fight against the plague. Even now, my assistant Colin is drafting instructions for burying the plague dead. They must be buried outside city walls, where they will be less likely to spread the disease.”
“That is all well and good, Merlin.” Arthur put on a formal smile. In his heartiest manner he patted Merlin on the back. “As usual, you render excellent service to the country. But Colin may remain here to continue that work. I want you to come on this journey.”
“Colin is not a trained physician. He can hardly-”
“Enough. I want you along, and that is that.” He pointed a finger at John. “You, too. Please don’t be difficult.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I’ll come along and hold your hand. It is only fitting that I come, after all. Merlin is right-this is a fool’s errand.”
Merlin laughed. Arthur frowned. Gildas persisted. “You are certain I am not to be permitted to examine this evil thing more closely?”
“Quite certain.” He forced a slight smile onto his lips. “You will come along, also?”
“It is not my habit to travel with court jesters. But if Your Majesty wishes it…”
“I do.”
“Then of course it will be my honor to travel alongside you, Sire. But now, if you will excuse me, other duties call. It is almost time for Vespers.” He bowed slightly.
John started to make another snide remark, but Arthur cut him off. “Of course you may go. I am most grateful for your counsel. England is a finer land for your presence here.”
Merlin rolled his eyes skyward at this. John laughed. And Gildas, ignoring them, bowed again and left. As he was going, John called after him, “My regards to your dress-maker.”
Gildas paused slightly, then sped up his pace. In a moment he was gone.
Arthur turned to face the boy. “Now you go, too.”
“But Arthur, I thought you wanted me at your side.”
“Go and eat your dinner or something.”
“Yes, sir.” And he followed the bishop.
As soon as the boy was out of earshot, Merlin, frowning, confronted Arthur. “He is one of your bastards. There is no other reason you would put up with him.”
“My-! What the devil do you mean?”
“The devil is precisely what you’ve gotten up to, far too many times. Exactly how many of them have you sired? The two who died last year, and this one, and-how many more?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Go back to your tower, Merlin. Read a book, or write one. I’m in no mood for this.”
“Look me in the eye and tell me that obnoxious boy is not one of your illegitimate sons.”
“I have to meet Sir Bedivere in the courtyard.” He started to go.
But Merlin caught him by the sleeve. “Arthur, I know it is a king’s privilege. But do you not think you have overdone it? It must have occurred to you that keeping them secret will only lead to more unpleasantness. Does it not occur to you that this may be what drove Guenevere to her various rebellions?”
“I was faithful to her. Right up to the day she-”
“Of course. Arthur, how many are there? Have you ever met a pretty country girl you didn’t rut with? Keeping all these sons secret can only lead to unpleasantness. You must be aware of that. Even you, with your dogged determination to avoid inconvenient facts till they smack you in the eye.”
“John is a good boy. A bright boy.” Arthur raised a finger and pointed at Merlin. “Even you must have seen that.”
“Granted, Arthur, but-”
“Of all of them-and no, I don’t know the number-of all of them that I know of, he is the brightest.”
“And so you have made him your fool.” Merlin’s disapproval could not have been plainer.
“He has a gift for sarcasm,” Arthur said weakly. Then a bright thought occurred to him. “Like you.”
“Do not attempt to change the subject.” Suddenly he had a revelatory thought. “All this talk of yours about finding a successor-!”
“Merlin, don’t.”
“That is what is at the bottom of this. But Arthur, you cannot possibly think that making him court fool now will make it easier for everyone to accept him as king when the time comes. You have sabotaged the boy and your own plans for him.”
“He-he-”
“Yes, Arthur?”
“I like him. He likes me. Do you have any idea how rare that is between a father and son?”