The Excalibur Murders Read Online Free PDF Page A

Camelot."
    Brit was wry. "Except for the king, of course. He's the handsomest by definition."
    "Of course."
    The brothers said hello to her then went back to their contest. Brit leaned very close to Colin and whispered, "You ought to be more careful. You'll give yourself away."
    Caught off balance by this, Nimue stammered, "I don't know what you mean."
    "No." Brit grinned. "Of course not." She got up and crossed quickly to where the brothers were wrestling and caught Ganelin in an arm lock. He struggled, apparently mortified that a woman had gotten the drop on him.
    Borolet came and sat down beside Colin. "You really ought to work out with us, Colin. You could make a good knight."
    "I'm a scholar, Borolet."
    "You could be both."
    She shrugged. "That would be a good novelty, at least. Will the two of you be at the consecration ceremony?"
    "Of course. We'll be attending the king." He smiled. "It's an important occasion and we'll be part of it."
    "Don't you ever get tired of waiting on him?"
    He seemed puzzled by the question. "He's the king."
    Britomart was applying severe pressure to Ganelin's arm. Finally, he cried out in pain and she let him go. Rubbing his arm, he sat next to his brother. "Serving the king is an honor, Colin. You should know that."
    "An honor." Nimue was deadpan. "Of course it is."
    Robbed of her diversion, Britomart waved lightly and went off to join another group of knights.
    "Yes," Ganelin said emphatically. "We're virtually the only ones beside the king himself who have access to his private chambers." He gestured toward Camelot's tallest tower, which everyone simply called the King's Tower. "He keeps all his most precious things there, even Excalibur. How could we not be honored?"
    "And he's going to keep the Stone of Bran there, too." Borolet was caught up in his brother's enthusiasm. "Have you seen the shrine Pastorini's making for it? Pure silver, all worked in intricate designs. It's an exquisite thing, and Arthur will be placing it in our care."
    "Silver? Where on earth did he get it?"
    Borolet shrugged. "Arthur's the king."
    "Suppose it turns out to be just a stone?"
    He didn't like the sound of that at all. "It won't."
    "I envy you your simple faith, Borolet." Nimue looked up at Merlin's tower. He was there at the window, watching them and scowling. She waved at him and he pulled back inside.
    "I think I'm due for my Latin lesson," she announced to the twins. "Merlin's looking stern."
    Borolet looked up at the tower; Ganelin head-butted him. "Stay and wrestle with me."
    "Thanks, but I really have to be going."
    "You should train. Don't you want to be a knight?"
    "No." She said it with heavy emphasis.
    "You talk like a girl."
    She bristled at this. "Which girl did you have in mind, exactly?"
    Abashed, he apologized. "Sorry."
    "I'll see you both later." Nimue crossed to the castle's entrance and climbed the stairs to Merlin's tower. He was there, waiting for her. Three of his ravens were perched in a row along the edge of the table as if they were scolding her for paying more attention to a red-haired, bare-chested twin than to her lessons.
    "Merlin, Britomart knows about me. Did you tell her?"
    "Of course not. How do you know?"
    "She as much as told me just now."
    "I'll talk to her and see." He gestured to a scroll on the table. "See how you do translating that."
    "What is it?"
    "Ovid. The Art of Love. I don't think you have to worry about Brit. I know her pretty well, and she can be trusted."
    "I hope so."
    "She's my closest friend. And she's politician enough to know that if you spread a secret around it loses its value. But I promise I'll talk to her as soon as I can."
    "Thanks. I'm having too much fun to have this end and go back to Morgan's court." She wrinkled her nose at the scroll in her hand. " The Art of Love. Why does that seem out of place at Camelot?"
    He scowled at her. "The king's marriage is the king's affair. Mind your Latin."
    "Yes, sir."
    "That's difficult stuff. You'll have to