The Secret of Excalibur (5 page)

‘I’m just saying what she said he said!’

‘Some SBS guy said that, did he?’ Chase growled, irked not so much by the insult as its source.

‘What’s the SBS?’ Nina asked.

‘Special Boat Service,’ Elizabeth told her. ‘They’re supposedly
much
tougher than the SAS.’

Chase scowled. ‘Oh, fu—’ His gaze flicked between his niece and his grandmother. ‘. . .
sod
the SBS.’

‘Fusod?’ Nina teased.

‘It’s . . . a military term.’

‘Oh, it is, huh?’

‘Well,’ said Elizabeth, pointing up the hill, ‘the SBS are based just up the road in Poole, so maybe you could go and challenge them to an arm-wrestling contest or something as pointlessly macho.’

‘Maybe I could,’ Chase replied scathingly. ‘ ’Cause that’s all serving your country’s about, being macho. I’m sure there’s all kinds of other worthwhile stuff I could have done instead in the last eighteen years. Any suggestions, Lizzie? I mean, with all
your
accomplishments . . .’

Recognising that the siblings were about to reach a critical mass and explode, Nina desperately tried to change the subject. ‘So, Holly, you, uh . . . like sending text messages, huh?’

To her astonishment, Holly didn’t consider the question to be as hopelessly lame an attempt at distraction as Chase and Elizabeth obviously did. ‘Oh, yeah! I mean, I prefer instant messaging, because who doesn’t? But Mum won’t let me on the computer much any more because I’ve got exams coming up, so I have to use texts, but my phone’s
so
old and rubbish.’ She held the offending item out as proof. To Nina, it looked a perfectly capable piece of technology, but she imagined someone half her age would have a very different idea of a good phone. ‘I mean, it doesn’t even have video! All my friends have better phones than me. It’s embarrassing.’

‘It’s just a
phone
, Holly,’ said Elizabeth, exasperated. ‘It makes calls, it does texts, that’s all you need. Anything else is just an expensive gimmick.’

‘But gimmicks are part of the fun, right?’ Chase said, winking at Holly. He pointed at a mobile phone shop up the street. ‘Tell you what, seeing as I didn’t bring you a present, how about I get you a new phone? Something flashy, with all the bells and whistles. Including video.’

Holly’s eyes widened. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah, course! Wouldn’t be much of an uncle if I couldn’t do something cool for my niece, would I?’ He led her towards the shop, looking back at Nina. ‘I’ll give you a call when we’re done, come and find you. Shouldn’t be too long, we’ll just get whatever’s the most expensive!’

Nan watched them go with an admiring smile. ‘He always was such a nice lad. It’s lovely to see him again. Don’t you think, Elizabeth?’

Elizabeth’s only answer was silence, but Nina didn’t need to hear any words to know that she could have quite happily killed Chase at that moment - and probably his fiancée as well. ‘So, ah,’ she said weakly, unable to endure her future sister-in-law’s thunderous glare any longer, ‘what’s the view like from that balloon?’

The view from five hundred feet up was actually quite impressive, Nina decided. The park below was a long finger of grass and trees with a small river running down its length, angling away to the glinting sea a quarter of a mile to the south. It was encircled by weaving, narrow roads - apparently the broad avenues and straight lines of Manhattan were anathema to English town planners. She could even see her hotel, a recently built octagon of pinkish stone overlooking the pier to the west of the park’s far end. The only blot on the landscape was a hulking glass-fronted block dominating the pier approach, a disused Imax cinema which, according to Nan’s ongoing and increasingly vitriolic tirade against it, had once been voted the ugliest building in England. Nina nodded and made ‘Uh-huh’ sounds at appropriate moments, though she had to concede that Chase’s grandmother did have a point.

But even that rant was preferable to the alternative. The view had done nothing to defuse the argument between Chase and his sister. And in the confines of the balloon’s gondola, there was no way to escape it.

‘I am
so
mad at you right now,’ Elizabeth hissed to Chase. Holly and Nan were at the opposite side of the gondola, just out of earshot, but Nina was an unwilling eavesdropper.

‘For fuck’s sake, Lizzie,’ Chase replied irritably. ‘I bought my niece a present. So fucking what?’

‘Because you didn’t
ask
me, and if you had
bothered
to ask me, I would have told you not to, because the last thing Holly needs right now is yet another distraction when she needs to concentrate on her schoolwork.’

‘Nan said she was doing fine. So did you. Sounds like she’s doing okay.’

‘I don’t
want
her to do “okay”! She can do so much better than “okay”, Eddie! But she’s a teenager, there are a million other things she’d rather be doing. It’s hard enough to get her to pay attention to what’s actually important without you giving her
toys
!’

‘Jesus Christ, Lizzie. What is this, some kind of overcompensation thing?’

Elizabeth’s eyes flashed with fury. ‘No, it’s an
irresponsibility
thing.’

‘Eh?’ Chase looked at her, confused. ‘When did I say you were irresponsible?’

‘I meant
you’re
being irresponsible, Eddie!’ She was barely able to keep her voice down. ‘You have no idea how hard it is to be a parent - Holly’s fifteen, for Christ’s sake, so right now to her I’m like bloody
Hitler
always on her back about everything. And then you come along, being Cool Uncle Eddie the hero, running around playing bloody Indiana Jones and encouraging her to be just like you!’

Chase angrily held up his left arm, exposing part of the scar. ‘Yeah, this was
playing
. Never mind that I saved thousands of lives, huh?’ He pulled the sleeve back up, voice taunting. ‘This isn’t about me at all, is it? It’s about
you
being jealous. Must be killing you, mustn’t it? Your useless little brother’s actually accomplished something worthwhile, but the one who got into Oxford’s stuck selling insurance. Sorry, Lizzie, but that’s not my fucking fault.’

‘We both know
exactly
whose fault it is, Eddie,’ Elizabeth said coldly.

‘Well, what the fuck ever.’ He turned away, walking around the gondola as the balloon began its descent, steel cables pulling it back to earth.

‘Oh, same old story,’ said Elizabeth, this time loudly enough for everybody to hear. ‘Whenever things go bad, Eddie Chase just turns his back and
walks away
!’ She flung her hands out theatrically, striding after him. ‘Well, where are you going, Eddie? You’re in a balloon! Can’t just walk out on me here.’

‘
Mum!
’ Holly through gritted teeth, cheeks bright red. Nina shared her embarrassment.

‘Well, that was a lovely ride,’ Nan piped up, turning away from the view to face Chase and Elizabeth. ‘It’s so nice to see things from a new perspective.’ For a moment Nina couldn’t believe she’d missed Elizabeth’s rant, but the briefest of exchanged glances told her that she’d heard it perfectly - and probably not for the first time. She pinched Chase’s cheek again. ‘So good to see you again, my little lambchop! I wonder, could you do me a favour? You said you’d hired a car. You wouldn’t mind taking me to the supermarket so I can do a big shop, would you?’

‘No problem at all, Nan,’ said Chase. ‘The car’s at the hotel - it’s not far. Although Nina’s meeting a friend soon, so she won’t be able to come.’ Nina looked at her watch, realising she’d completely forgotten about Rust - it was already after two thirty.

‘Oh, that’s a shame. Well, hopefully I’ll see you again later, Nina - I can tell you what Edward was like when he was little. I’ve got photos.’

Now it was Chase’s turn to look embarrassed. ‘Aw, Nan!’

‘ “Little lambchop”?’ Nina whispered to Chase as the balloon touched down. ‘That’s so
sweet
!’

‘Yeah, yeah . . .’

‘I’ll show you his medals, as well,’ said Nan. ‘He gave them to me after he left the army, even his Victoria Cross. He got that from the Queen, you know!’

Nina looked at Chase, open-mouthed. ‘Now you know where the box is,’ he told her, smiling slightly. The attendants secured the gondola and opened its gate, and the passengers stepped out. ‘Okay, you go and meet this bloke and I’ll take Nan on her supermarket sweep.’ He hugged Holly.

‘Thanks for the phone, Uncle Eddie,’ she said.

‘Glad you like it. Just don’t spend too much time on it, okay? Wouldn’t want to distract you from your schoolwork.’

Holly tutted. ‘God, now you sound like Mum!’

‘I hope not.’ Chase shot Elizabeth a cutting look, then kissed Holly on the cheek and joined Nina and Nan. ‘I’ll see you again before we go, okay?’

She waved. ‘Bye, Uncle Eddie!’

‘Bye, Holly.’ Chase turned away.

‘Nice to meet you
both
,’ said Nina pointedly, before following Chase and his grandmother in the direction of their hotel. ‘What was
that
all about?’ she whispered to him.

‘Family stuff.’ When it became obvious he wasn’t going to elaborate, all Nina could do was sigh and make the most of a pleasant stroll through the park.

3

A
fter Chase and his grandmother left, Nina returned to the hotel room to get her laptop and the encrypted disc. Making her way back through the maze of softly lit corridors, she wondered again what secrets it held - and why Rust could only reveal them to her in person.

Rust was waiting for her in the Paragon’s ‘Vista Lounge’, an elevated, semi-circular, glass-walled extension overlooking the seafront. Above it on the western cliff was a large brick building proclaiming itself as the Bournemouth International Centre, the beach and pier to the south. With the bright afternoon sun shimmering off the waves and holidaymakers ambling about, it was an attractive view, marred only by the looming Imax building east of the pier. Nina found herself agreeing with Nan about its being an eyesore.

So, to her surprise, was Rust. When she’d met him previously, the German had been smartly dressed, almost dapper. The dishevelled figure who stood up to greet her, on the other hand, looked as though he’d spent the night sleeping in a ditch. His jacket was crumpled, unkempt grey hair sticking up at angles as if he’d received an electric shock. With his thick-framed glasses, he looked almost like a cartoon of a mad scientist.

He still had his manners, however. ‘Ah, Nina!’ he said, standing and bowing as she approached. ‘So good to see you again. And I am grateful you agreed to meet me.’

‘Well, you didn’t leave me much of an option,’ she replied as she shook his hand. ‘I got the feeling you would have camped out on the UN’s doorstep if you had to.’

She meant it as a joke, but Rust nodded. ‘Perhaps. But we are both here! Come, sit down.’ He directed her to his table near the back of the room. Nina realised he had chosen to sit as far from the lounge’s other occupants as possible, most of them opting for a clear view of the sea. Rust pulled out a chair for her, then regarded the other people present suspiciously before sitting himself.

She followed his darting glances: an elderly couple sharing tea and biscuits, a young man with over-gelled hair talking animatedly on his phone, a large bearded guy with an ugly scar carved into his forehead concentrating on his newspaper. Nina felt briefly sorry for him - whatever caused his disfigurement had clearly been a serious injury - before turning her attention back to Rust. ‘So, what’s the big secret?’

Rust leaned closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial near-whisper. ‘Nina, tell me . . . what do you know about King Arthur?’

Had Nina prepared a list of potential subjects for Rust to bring up, she doubted that would even have appeared in the top thousand. ‘Er . . . in the historical sense, or as mythology?’

‘Historical, of course.’

‘Of course,’ she said, trying to conceal her bewilderment. ‘It’s not really my area of expertise, but I know enough to know there’s not much
to
know. He was the leader of the ancient Britons in the sixth century, he united the tribes of Britain following the withdrawal of the Romans, and fought against the Saxons and the Picts until the Saxons finally conquered England by the seventh century. Beyond that . . .’ She shrugged. ‘That’s when legend and Monty Python take over.’

Rust nodded approvingly. ‘And what of King Arthur’s sword? Do you think that is just legend also?’

‘I don’t know. There are some historical accounts, but they’re very sketchy. I mean, there isn’t even agreement over whether it was one sword or two. Excalibur’s the name everyone knows, but in some sources he had another one before it, although I don’t remember what it was called—’

‘Caliburn,’ Rust cut in.

‘Caliburn, right. So Excalibur might have been another name for Caliburn, or they might have been two completely different swords. If you go by the legends, then Caliburn was the sword in the stone, which only Arthur was capable of removing as proof that he was the true king of Britain, and Excalibur was forged for him by Merlin after Caliburn was broken in battle.’ She gave the German a look. ‘But you know all this already, so why are you asking me?’

‘Yes, I know it,’ Rust admitted. ‘The story of Arthur has been an . . . an
obsession
, I suppose, of mine for many years. But I wanted to be sure you were the right person to tell what I’ve discovered.’

Nina raised an eyebrow. ‘What you’ve discovered? I thought this was about my parents. What’s King Arthur got to do with them?’

Rust’s lips pursed as if he were chewing a lump of something indigestible. ‘Actually, the truth is, Nina . . . nothing.’

‘What?’

‘If I had told you why I really needed to see you, you might not have been interested. This was the only way to be sure. I am sorry.’

‘
What?
’ Nina repeated, now with anger. ‘Wait, you
lied
to me? You just wanted an excuse to talk to me?’

‘Please, I am sorry, I really am! But I had to talk to you. You are the only person I could turn to for help.’ He glanced around the lounge again, voice a hissing whisper. ‘My life is in danger!’

‘Yeah, from
me
!’ Nina stood, grabbing her laptop.

Rust jumped up too, hands flapping as he begged her to sit back down. ‘Please, please! Your parents were great friends of mine, your father especially. We had a lot in common. Including a passion for unfashionable theories.’ His look of pleading suddenly sharpened. ‘Like
Atlantis.
’

‘That still doesn’t give you the right to use my parents as a way to get my attention.’

‘Do you know why I lost my job?’ Rust asked, his tone hardening. ‘Because I helped your father.
I
secretly gave him the recovered Nazi documents that brought him and Laura closer to Atlantis than ever before. When what I had done was discovered, I was fired, disgraced - and in the end I lost my marriage because of it. Sabrina left me.’

‘If you’re looking for sympathy, you’re looking in the wrong place,’ Nina told him coldly. ‘My parents
died
because of what you gave them.’

‘Your parents were prepared to take any risk to prove that they were right,’ countered Rust. ‘You know this is true - you knew
them
. The search for Atlantis was their passion, their
obsession
, and it became yours too. And you would never have found Atlantis without them. Your work built on theirs.’ Nina couldn’t deny that; she had made extensive use of her parents’ notes in her research. ‘And like them, you took great risks to prove your theories. Well, I too have a theory. Nobody believes it - but nobody believed your parents either, yet they were
right
.’ Having said his piece, he seemed to sag, the tension of waiting for Nina’s response the only string holding him upright. ‘Please,’ he said quietly. ‘At least hear what I have to say.’

Nina hesitated. She knew full well that Rust was playing on her emotions, and resented the manipulation as much as his deception. But he would not have given the Nazi documents to her parents without knowing the risk he was taking in helping them . . . and he had paid the price, with his career, his marriage.

‘All right,’ she said reluctantly, her anger still there, but subsiding. ‘All right, I’ll listen. But that’s all.’ She sat down. ‘I’m not promising anything else.’

Rust returned to his own seat, relieved. ‘That is all I ask.’

Arms folded, Nina regarded him through narrowed eyes. ‘So. Tell me your theory.’

‘My theory,’ Rust began, again lowering his voice, ‘concerns Arthur’s sword, Excalibur. I believe it is real - and that it still exists. What is more, I know how to find it.’

‘Okay, so where is it?’

‘I do not know.’

Nina blew an aggravated breath out through her teeth. ‘But you just said—’

‘I said I knew how to
find
it; that is not the same as knowing where it is. I have always had a keen interest in the Arthurian legends, just as your parents did about Atlantis. And like them, I have devoted a great deal of time and effort to piece together every last scrap of historical fact that I could discover. The story of King Arthur stretches far outside just Britain, you know.’ He looked at the sea beyond the windows. ‘It goes as far as the Middle East - which is where one of the clues that will lead us to Excalibur lies.’

‘There’s no “us”, Bernd,’ Nina reminded him. ‘Not unless you convince me you’re right.’

Rust’s eyes flicked down at the disc. ‘And I will do so - all my research is there.’ He looked back at her. ‘You know, of course, of King Richard the First?’

‘Richard the Lionheart,’ said Nina, nodding.

‘When Richard set out on the Third Crusade in 1190, he took with him a very special item, a gift from the monks of Glastonbury Abbey in the west of England. They gave him a sword - a sword that once belonged to Britain’s greatest king.’

‘Excalibur?’

Rust smiled. ‘No. Richard
thought
he carried Excalibur - but the monks had given him Arthur’s
first
sword, Caliburn.
This
is my theory - my unfashionable passion.’

Nina found herself starting to become intrigued, however unwillingly. ‘Go on.’

‘Caliburn was broken in battle by King Pellinore, according to legend. This may or may not be true, but the sword
was
broken, I have no doubt of that. The pieces were kept, and, as a weapon of great importance, attempts were made to reforge it. But a mended weapon can never have the same strength as a newly forged one - and I believe that Arthur’s swords were more than mere steel. I will come to that later,’ he went on, catching Nina’s quizzical expression. ‘So Merlin, who had made Caliburn, forged a replacement.’

‘You believe Merlin was real?’

‘There are too many historical references to him for me to doubt it, yes. Though he was not a wizard - at least, not in the magical sense.’ Rust gave Nina a knowing smile. ‘He created a new weapon for Arthur, a sword even stronger than Caliburn - Excalibur. Now, legend says that Arthur was buried with it in the grounds of Glastonbury Abbey. But the monks also had Caliburn in their possession, along with many of Arthur’s other treasures.’

‘So where does Richard the Lionheart come into it?’

‘Glastonbury Abbey was one of the wealthiest monasteries in England,’ Rust explained. ‘Much of that wealth came from its connection to the legend of Arthur. Of course, wherever there is wealth, there will always come those demanding tribute. Richard was no exception.’

‘So the monks gave him Excalibur,’ said Nina, before she realised where Rust was heading. ‘Or rather, they
told
him it was Excalibur - because they had no intention of giving up the real sword.’

‘Precisely! Excalibur was buried in Arthur’s tomb, a black stone pyramid which the monks discovered in 1191 - one year
after
Richard left on the Crusade. Though “discovered” is not the right word - they knew where it was all along.’

‘They
unveiled
it,’ Nina realised. ‘Like opening a new attraction at a theme park.’

‘Yes. The abbey had been damaged by a fire, and even that wealthy monastery’s resources would have been strained by the cost of repairs. But the tomb of Arthur would bring them many visitors . . . and their money.’

‘So what happened to the tomb? I know for a fact that King Arthur’s bones aren’t on display anywhere.’

‘No, they are not. After the tomb was discovered, the bodies of Arthur and his queen, Guinevere, were moved to within the abbey itself. But when Henry the Eighth dissolved the monasteries around 1539—’

‘By “dissolved” you mean “destroyed”, right?’ Nina cut in.

‘Quite so. When the abbey was destroyed, so was the tomb, and nothing of it was ever found.’

‘So the only thing left of Arthur was Caliburn?’

Rust was smiling again. ‘Not quite. This is what my research has told me, this is my theory. Think about it - the monks of Glastonbury were willing to risk tricking the
king
to protect their treasure. So when they revealed - unveiled, as you say - the tomb of King Arthur to the world, I believe they had already moved the
real
contents of the tomb to another place, somewhere that fire or robbers, or kings, could not find them. Only the monks knew where this place was - and when the monastery was destroyed, the knowledge was lost. But there was one place it remained - inscribed on Caliburn!’

Nina was sceptical. ‘Why would the monks do that? It’d be like giving the key to Fort Knox to Goldfinger!’

‘They did not expect Richard to take the sword with him on the Crusades. And they would never have expected him to do with the sword what he did.’

‘Which was?’

‘On his way to the Holy Land Richard stopped in Sicily, where in the manner of kings of that time he started a small war over some trivial matter.’ Rust shook his head dismissively, unruly hair waving. ‘The ruler of Sicily at that time was Tancred of Lecce, and when he signed a peace treaty with Richard in 1191, Richard presented him with a token of their new friendship . . .’

‘Caliburn,’ Nina realised.

‘Though both Tancred and Richard thought it was Excalibur.’

She was still dubious. ‘I never heard
that
story before.’

‘It was not exactly something Richard wanted widely publicised at home, that he had given away one of England’s greatest treasures. But when Richard continued on to the Holy Land, Tancred was left with the sword, which passed down to his successors until it reached Frederick the Second.’

‘Ah!’ said Nina, recognising a historical figure with whom she was far more familiar. ‘The Holy Roman Emperor.’

‘And another Crusader - although a very different kind from Richard.’

‘Making alliances with the Muslims so he could just walk into Jerusalem and claim it without a single life being lost wasn’t quite what the Pope had in mind,’ she said with a grin.