Part 11 (2/2)

'Er young man! Miss!' The Inquisitor's voice was conspiratorial; he gave them a sly smile.

'Sir?' Lieutenant Windward's tone was sharp with worry. He was a capable, conscientious young man, a good second-in-command, but not used to dealing with such a crisis as this.

'I know I know you are in a pucker about your captain! Small blame to you. Her Mercy is so impulsive. That was what I tried to warn him but he would not be advised. Now, doubtless, he is sorry. But listen to me: do not you be so hot-headed. Take my advice. Pretend to agree to the queen's mission then come to me. Will ye do that?'

'Not really go to King Mabon, you mean?' Windward said cautiously.

The Grand Inquisitor shook his head.

'Mabon has not taken the lake, gracious me, no! Y Diawl, he would not do such a thing. It will have sunk away from natural causes. She will only make us into a laughing-stock with such a message. Their queen is cracked in the head, Mabon will be saying. A great pity that would be.'

'But -' Dido began. It seemed plain the Grand Inquisitor had no idea of her part in the plan: the queen's intended deception of King Mabon. Gomez looked at her severely.

'Hold your tongue, child! Little girls should be seen and not heard.'

'But what about Captain Hughes?' Windward asked doubtfully.

'Leave that to me. I can talk the old lady round, by and by. Second thoughts she will be having, after a day or two. Just now, best to leave her alone. Quieta non movere.'

'I see,' Windward said. He did not sound convinced. 'Well thank you, sir. We will be sure to remember your advice.'

Gomez gave them another cunning look, then glided away round the curve and out of sight.

It was a relief to descend the stair, to go out through the revolving door into the bitter cold of the palace yard a sharp but welcome contrast to the steamy heat inside.

Neither of the pair spoke until they were safely in the carriage, when Lieutenant Windward exclaimed, 'What the devil do we do now?'

'Think hard,' said Dido. 'Talk it over with the others somewhere we can't be listened to. I don't trust arty-body in this murky town. Oh,' she sighed, 'it would be handy if Mr Holy were a bit better and could talk sense when we gets back.'

'That queen is a regular shocker!' muttered Windward, who could not get over the horror of seeing His commanding officer dragged away so helplessly at the whim of a fat old woman. After a moment he added, 'It's rum, though; she seemed to take quite a s.h.i.+ne to you.'

7.

A council of war was held in Dido's bedroom at the Sydney Hotel. The partic.i.p.ating members were Lieutenant Windward, Mr Multiple, Dido, Plum and Noah Gusset. Mr Holystone had fallen into a high fever; the doctor was perplexed by his condition, which did not respond to treatment.

'All we can do is wait,' he said, not too happily or confidently. 'I am afraid the air of Bath does not agree with your friend.'

'You mean to tell me this old girl believes she's King Arthur's widow?' Mr Multiple incredulously demanded of the two who had visited the palace. 'Round Table King Arthur? That one?'

'That's what she said. Didn't she, Miss Twite? Seemed to believe it, too. She's clean gone in her wits, of course; rats in the garret. But the thing is, what are we going to do? She's got Cap'n Hughes in the lockup; for all we know, she's liable to chop his head off, or have it shrunk, like those ones in the waiting-room, if we don't keep her sweet.'

'Yes,' said Multiple very doubtfully, 'but even if Miss Twite goes to this King Mabon, and lets on to be his daughter, how do we know that'll help the Cap'n? It sounds to me like a tottyheaded scheme. First, Miss Twite doesn't look like any princess axing your pardon, Miss Twite '

'Oh, call me Dido, can't you,' said Dido impatiently. 'O'course I don't look like a princess.'

' So it's odds but King Mabon'd twig our wheedle right from the start. And then we'll be rolled-up too. Probably thrown into jail in Lyonesse. And he won't give back the old lady's lake.'

'Supposing he did steal it,' said the lieutenant sceptically.

Dido thought of the mysterious procession she had seen through the captain's telescope all those loaded llamas slowly making their way over the mountain tops with their heavy burdens. But wait, she said to herself, I saw that after Cap'n Hughes had the message about the theft. Still, maybe llamas travel very slowly -specially with a heavy load and maybe going only at night maybe it would take them two-three weeks to go from New c.u.mbria to Lyonesse?

'I reckon the lake was stolen,' she said slowly.

'If it was stole, then King Mabon oughta return it,' said Noah Gusset with stolid justice.

Plum, surprising everybody, said, 'Mayhap she do be King Arthur's widow!'

They all stared at him, and he turned brick-red, but went on, 'When I were a boy, in Usk, my gramma 'ud be telling us about King Arthur. Come back one day, she said he would, no matter how long. Sleeping in the mountain, him, till his time be come, with his knights around him. An' when his time be come, he'll pull his sword outa the rock again, an' put on his golden crown.'

'Oh, flummery!' said Lieutenant Windward irritably. 'Anyway even if that were so how could his widow survive him for thirteen hundred years?'

'The old medico Cap'n Hughes fetched in for Mr Holystone said the climate up here was supposed to be devilish healthy,' said Mr Multiple.

'Not for poor Holystone, it ain't!'

'Nor for all the young gels as gets took by the Aurocs,' said Dido. Then she stopped short. A perfectly horrible idea had come into her head. It was so strange, and so frightening, that she did not like to utter it aloud. Instead she said slowly, 'I've had a kind of a notion. I believe I know where King Mabon's daughter might be.'

They all stared at her in amazement.

'You do' said Mr Multiple. 'How can that be?'

'I better not say here.' Dido glanced round the room. 'I don't trust this place above half.' She looked under the bed. 'What happened to the cat?' she asked Mr Multiple.

'It dashed out when I opened the door.'

'I reckon we'd better play along with the old lady a bit,' Dido went on in a very low tone. 'Say we'll go visit this King Mabon. That can't do no harm. Then we'll get a pa.s.s from the Grand What's.h.i.+sname, saying we're allowed to climb Mount Dammyache and Mount Catelonde and the other one.'

Mount Arrabe, she thought.

Captain Hughes was thrust into a smallish stone-walled room, and the door slammed-to behind him. He heard the rattle of bolts. For a moment or two he stood blinking (his head had been thrust into a black bag during his removal from Bath palace); when he recovered his sight he recognised a familiar figure in the small plump man sitting dolefully on the floor by the window, with his b.u.t.tons undone, his hair dishevelled, and his cravat hanging in a loose tangle. He did not look up at the captain's unceremonious entry, but continued staring miserably at his own outspread fingers.

'Mr Brandywinde! Upon my soul! I had thought you were upon the high seas! Do you mean to tell me that that hag of a queen imprisoned you too?'

'I don't mean to tell you anything,' retorted Mr Brandywinde moodily. 'What's the use of talking? Oh, my hands, my poor hands!'

And he hunched his shoulders, turning his back rudely on the captain, who felt justifiably irritated. He had enough troubles of his own without being snubbed by this wretched little twopenny-halfpenny fellow.

Ignoring Mr Brandywinde's sulks, Captain Hughes inspected the room, walked across to the window, glanced indifferently at the magnificent prospect of Bath encircled in its ring of volcanoes afforded by the window (which was very high; they were at the top of the Wen Pendragon tower, which, in its turn, was at the top of Beechen Cliff); then, discovering a second door which stood ajar, the captain went through it into a second room, where he found a large loom, already strung with the warp for a carpet or a piece of tapestry. A door beyond the loom led on, and he discovered a circular suite of rooms, all interconnected and furnished with various materials for indoor occupation: a piano, a kiln and quant.i.ty of clay, paints, canvas, wool and needles, mathematical instruments, sewing equipment, canes, rushes, pipes, flutes; there was even a harp. What the captain did not find was any other exit apart from the bolted door through which he had been thrust by his captors.

'What the deuce is this place a college?' he demanded, returning through a door opposite that from which he had started. 'Or does Queen Ginevra propose to keep her prisoners at work weaving carpets?'

The British Agent looked up at him with dismal bloodshot eyes.

'Oh, no,' said Brandywinde. 'She don't give a rap what happens to us. Unless we're some use to her. No, this ain't a college. It's a prison. But it's also King Arthur's Castle. Where he's supposed to be residing till he's healed of his wound.'

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