Grailblazers (39 page)

‘That's Klaus von Weinacht, is it?' Boamund asked. ‘I think I...'

‘Yes,' Kundry said, with a hint of distaste, ‘that was Klaus von Weinacht. Anyway, where was I? We'd been married about a year or so when Klaus decided he was going to leave the University and go back to Atlantis, where he'd originally come from. I went with him - I wasn't going to give up that easily, not without a proper settlement, at least - and so we both went to Atlantis. He told me all about the magic gold and the moon and the rotation of the earth and so on, and I realised that there was a simply marvellous opportunity there for someone with a good head for business. I took charge of that side of it - I didn't tell Klaus what I was doing till much later, and he didn't find out, what with having to deliver all those presents and everything - and it wasn't long before the whole operation was well and truly under way. I expect you know all about that.'

‘That's all this insurance stuff, isn't it?' Boamund said. ‘I don't think I've quite got the hang of how insurance actually works yet, but never mind. You carry on with what you were saying.'

‘It was about twenty years later,' Kundry said, ‘that my Uncle Joe came to see me, all the way from Arimathea. He'd brought the washing-up bowl with him, and I was a bit taken aback when I saw it again, as you can imagine. But then he explained about all the marvellous things it could do, about tax and so forth - basic rate tax was three deniers in the sol tournois in those days, we didn't know we were born - and so I put it to good use right away. Uncle Joe stayed on and we gave him a seat on the board, and everything was fine for quite some time. Well, not fine, exactly; I mean, Klaus and I only spoke to each other during board meetings, and even then we quarrelled a lot. I had an idea that he was up to something, you see. There were a lot of rumours going around about him wanting to have me thrown off the board so that he and Uncle Joe could take the whole thing over between them. Of course, I wasn't having that. The very idea!

‘I found out what they were up to, eventually. They'd worked out that this place - Albion, I mean - had been built by the ancient Atlanteans to separate the two magnetic fields, years before my time, and that they could use it for a sort of tax fiddle. By the time I found out, actually, the whole thing was rather too far advanced for me to be able to nip it in the bud, but I got there in the end and plugged the loophole. They were sick as parrots about my spoiling their little plan, but there wasn't much they could do about it. The tiresome thing was that Uncle Joe had managed to get hold of the Grail - we might as well call it that, although personally I think it's a
silly
name for it, don't you? - and smuggled it out to Albion and hidden it. He knew where it was, and so did Klaus, and there was a monk or somebody like that in Glastonbury who was in on the secret too, but that was all. They couldn't use the Grail without me knowing, of course, but I couldn't use it either. It was a great shame and very silly, but that's men for you. Spiteful.

‘Anyway, things came to a head and I divorced Klaus. He got custody of our daughter and took her away to the North Pole, where he built a whopping great big castle right on top of the magnetic iron ore deposit. I think he had some idea about using that to upset the balance between the two magnetic fields, purely and simply to get back at me, but he's never actually got around to
doing
anything about it yet. I think he's always too busy getting ready to do his delivery round. The population explosion in the last two hundred years has affected him very badly, you know. Serves him right.

‘Uncle Joe just packed his bags and left, too. The last I heard of him was in this Glastonbury place; apparently, he just sort of vanished in a puff of blue smoke, if you can believe that. I heard rumours some time later that he'd taken a job teaching at a boy's school somewhere, but I don't know if it's true or not. Anyway, the long and the short of it is, he took the Grail with him, and that's all I know about it. So I can't help you any more. Sorry.'

Boamund sat for a while, his eyes as round as the full moon.

‘Thank you,' he said. ‘You've been most helpful. I think I know what's going on now.'

Kundry raised both eyebrows. ‘Do you?' she said. ‘I don't.
Something's
going on, I know that, or else why did Klaus suddenly turn up the other day chasing your friends? I hadn't seen him for years. Good job, too.'

‘I think I know why,' Boamund said. ‘He knew that Mr - that your Uncle Joe was helping us to find the Grail, and he wanted to find out what we knew.'

‘Uncle Joe?' Kundry stared at him. ‘What's Uncle Joe got to do with it? Like I said, I haven't seen or heard anything of him for simply ages. In fact, I rather thought he was dead or something.'

Boamund shook his head. ‘No,' he said, ‘not as such.'

‘Have you seen him?' Kundry asked eagerly. ‘Do you know where he is?'

‘Yes,' Boamund said slowly. ‘I know where he is. But I don't know where to find him. If you see what I mean.'

Kundry sighed. ‘Not really,' she said. ‘Oh, by the way, your friends took something of mine the other day. Would you be very sweet and let me have it back when you've finished with it?'

Boamund nodded. ‘Thanks again,' he said, and added, ‘I think it was a swizzle, too. About the washing-up and everything. But, well, sometimes you've got to put up with people -
important
people, if you know what I mean. It's like knights and dwarves, really. I mean, knights aren't particularly clever and dwarves help them out a lot with the thinking. And dwarves do all the housework and the cleaning and tidying up, and we do sometimes forget to say thank you. But that's because that's the way things are. They understand, and we do, too. Sort of.'

Kundry frowned at him. ‘That's men for you,' she said. ‘Typical.'

Boamund stood up. ‘I'd better be getting back,' he said. ‘Um, how do I get out of here?'

‘I'll see to that,' Kundry replied. ‘Give my regards to your friend Bedevere. I quite liked him.'

‘Thanks.'

‘Goodbye then,' Kundry said. ‘Your Majesty.'

 

Toenail was sitting in the boat when Boamund finally surfaced. He held out a boathook and Boamund pulled himself aboard.

‘Lucky I brought a change of clothes and some towels,' said the dwarf. ‘When I heard we were going to a lake, I said to myself, someone's bound to fall in, so I'd better ...'

Boamund wiped the water out of his eyes. ‘I didn't say we were going to a lake,' he said.

‘You
didn't, no,' Toenail replied. ‘You wouldn't have known, would you?'

Boamund shrugged and towelled his hair for a moment. The dwarf picked up the oars and started to row for the shore.

‘Toenail,' said Boamund suddenly, ‘whose side are you on?'

‘Yours, of course,' said the dwarf. ‘Why d'you ask?'

‘Nothing,' Boamund replied. ‘I was just puzzled, that's all.'

The dwarf veered the boat towards the jetty with the left-hand oar. ‘We've always been dwarves in our family,' he said, ‘it's a tradition. I told you, remember?'

‘Did you?' Boamund noticed that he'd lost Excalibur; that's if it really had been Excalibur. ‘Sorry,' he said. ‘I probably wasn't listening.'

‘Don't suppose you were,' said the dwarf. ‘You've found out, then.'

Boamund looked up. ‘Found out?' he repeated.

‘About the Grail, and Mr Simon,' Toenail replied. ‘Or didn't she tell you?'

‘You mean you knew all along?' Boamund said.

‘Sort of,' Toenail replied. ‘It's called race-memory, you see. Like, all dwarves can remember everything that's ever happened to all the other dwarves who've ever lived. Just not all at once. Bits of it come back to you, when it's necessary.'

‘Right,' Boamund said. ‘I think I follow. Yes, she told me. Came as a bit of a surprise, actually.'

‘Everything comes as a surprise to me, sir,' replied the dwarf. ‘I prefer it that way. Here we are.'

The boat nudged gently against the jetty, and Boamund jumped off.

‘Can you manage?' he asked.

‘Course I can,' Toenail replied cheerfully. ‘Why do you ask?'

‘Oh, no reason,' Boamund replied thoughtfully. ‘Now then...'

‘This way,' Toenail said.

 

‘Bet you ten to one he's got lost,' Turquine was saying. ‘Never did have a sense of direction, young Snotty. He could get lost in a lift.'

‘Or else something's happened to him,' Galahaut replied. ‘Not exactly practical, our Boamund. Accident-prone, too. I think we should go and look for him, don't you?'

Turquine yawned. ‘Why bother?' he said. ‘To be honest with you, I've had just about as much as I can take of being ordered about by him, the jumped-up little tyke. Worst thing Mr Magus ever did, making him a prefect. Gave him ideas. He's never been the same since.'

‘You know,' Pertelope broke in. ‘I always wondered why he did that. Anyone less suited to being a prefect than Bo you couldn't imagine.'

They had lit a fire, and Lamorak had somehow managed to hit a rabbit with an improvised catapult. They were having a late supper.

‘I expect he thought it would be character-forming,' Pertelope replied as he turned the spit. ‘Make something of him, you know Bring him out of his shell. Didn't work, mind. Just made him insufferable.'

‘More insufferable, anyway,' Turquine replied. ‘He always was a pompous little git, even at the best of times. I reckon Mr Magus has got a lot to answer for.'

‘Someone taking my name in vain?' said a voice from the darkness. At once, the five knights jumped to their feet and looked guilty. Pavlovian reflex.

‘Hello again, sir,' Turquine mumbled. ‘Just wondering where Boamund's got to, sir. Have you seen him?'

‘He'll be all right,' Simon Magus replied. ‘Well now, young Turquine, what have we here? Roast rabbit?'

‘Yes, sir.'

Simon Magus sat down and warmed his hands in front of the fire. ‘Quite like the old days, really. I remember you were always breaking out of the Dorm in summer, young Turkey, poaching rabbits and having - let's say, having unofficial barbecues behind the stables. The farmers used to complain quite dreadfully.'

Turquine went a deep shade of mauve and said nothing.

‘Was I right in thinking,' Simon Magus continued as he poked the rabbit with a stick, ‘that you were discussing why I chose to make young Boamund a prefect at the end of the Third year? Or were my old ears deceiving me?'

There was an awkward silence, which Bedevere broke.

‘We were a bit puzzled, sir, yes,' he said carefully. ‘It did seem rather an odd choice; if you don't mind us saying so. He wasn't really very good at it, was he?'

‘I think the rabbit's about ready now,' Simon Magus replied, and Bedevere noticed that he was staring into the fire, as if he could see something there, in the blue part of the flame. ‘It was an unconventional choice, certainly, but I had my reasons. In fact, if you're patient, you can hear them for yourselves in a minute or two. Have you got your famous penknife handy, Turquine? Or is it still confiscated? I can't remember.'

Very slowly, Turquine took an old and extremely worn penknife out of his pocket and handed it over. It wasn't the first time, either.

‘Ah yes,' said Simon Magus. ‘Old Faithful.' He began to carve the rabbit.

‘Actually, sir,' Bedevere said tentatively. ‘I was meaning to ask you. About this whole quest business, sir...'

But before he could finish his sentence there was a rustling in the bushes and Boamund emerged, with Toenail trotting behind him carrying a bundle of wet clothes. Simon Magus got up slowly, put down the rabbit and smiled affectionately. Then he knelt down on one knee and said:

‘All hail King Boamund the First, rightful King of Albion.'

There was a silence you could have built a house on, and then Turquine made a sort of choking noise.

‘Oh, for God's sake,' he said. ‘He isn't, is he? Tell me it isn't true, somebody.'

Simon Magus stood up. ‘It's all right,' he said, ‘the office is purely honorary. There isn't a kingdom of Albion any more.'

‘God, I'm relieved to hear you say that,' said Turquine. ‘Just imagine what it'd be like, having that horrible face peering up at your from postage stamps.'

Boamund was standing quite still. He looked pale, although perhaps it was just a trick of the light, and he was looking at the old magician. He made no attempt to speak.

‘Well now,' Simon Magus said, ‘did you manage all right?'

Boamund nodded. ‘Yes, thank you,' he said. ‘I managed.'

‘And do you know where it is?'

‘No,' Boamund replied. There was a disdainful noise from Sir Turquine, but Simon Magus held up his hand for silence.

‘I don't know where it is,' Boamund went on, ‘but I do know who does know, if you follow me, sir. That's right, isn't it?'

Simon Magus smiled; or at least, the corner of his lip lifted about a quarter of an inch. ‘Splendid,' he said. ‘Very well done. Come and have some rabbit.'