The Secret of Excalibur

of them was “close to home” - I think he lived in southern Germany, near Munich.’

‘That doesn’t exactly narrow it down,’ Chase said wryly.

‘It’s better than nothing,’ said Mitchell. ‘I’ll arrange us priority transport to Koroneou, then - it’s the only lead we’ve got.’

Chase grinned. ‘So, I guess Greece is the word.’

7

Greece

‘Priority transport’ turned out to be a brand-new US State Department Gulfstream G550 jet. Although the aircraft was fitted out to accommodate sixteen people in luxury that put even first class on most airliners to shame, Nina, Chase and Mitchell were the only passengers - which made Nina feel slightly guilty that the three of them were waited on by an equal number of cabin staff during the flight as she used the plane’s satellite link to research Arthurian legend. From the way the crew hovered obsequiously, it was clear they were used to attending to considerably more demanding and self-important fliers, like politicians and bureaucrats.

But she soon forgot about the extravagant use of her taxes once they arrived at their destination. Surrounded by the glittering blue of the Aegean Sea, the small rocky island of Koroneou possessed a rugged beauty, greenery clinging to every surface able to support it.

The natural attractions of the island weren’t what concerned her, however. She was far more interested in Koroneou’s man-made delights - in particular, the one that greeted her when Mitchell drove their black SUV round a corner of the road along the island’s southern coast to reveal a headland beyond. A village was strung out along the narrow tongue of land, white-painted buildings shining like beads under the sun, but it was the much larger building at its tip that commanded her attention.

Though its crenellated outer walls and some of the outlying structures had fallen into ruin, the castle of Peter of Koroneou was still intact, a block of pale stone flanked by a pair of taller cylindrical towers. Given the idyllic surroundings, Nina couldn’t help thinking the place had a certain fairytale quality to it.

Mitchell had the same thought. ‘Funny, we’re trying to find the sword of King Arthur, and the first place we visit looks like Camelot.’

‘Camelot?’ said Nina with a smile. ‘You know, I’ve heard . . .’ She put on an English accent, ‘that it’s a very silly place.’

Mitchell grinned back at her. ‘The kind of place you might find . . . a shrubbery!’

Chase buried his head in his hands. ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake. Bloody Monty Python quotes? It’s like I’m trapped in a car with a bunch of students!’

‘Jack, help me, I’m being oppressed!’ Nina trilled. ‘What’s wrong with Monty Python? It’s classic British comedy, I thought you’d love it!’

‘It’s all right, but not when everyone thinks they’re being so bloody clever by reciting bits over and over again. And how come you’re both so big on Monty Python anyway? You’re Yanks!’

‘Come on, Eddie,’ she said. ‘Python 101 is practically compulsory at American colleges. Well, among certain types of students, anyway.’

‘You mean nerds?’

‘I was not a nerd!’ Nina protested. ‘I was just . . . very focused on my studies.’

‘Well, I sure as hell wasn’t a nerd, and I watched it too,’ said Mitchell. ‘Matter of fact, Monty Python and the Holy Grail was the first movie I saw with the girl I ended up marrying.’

‘Thank you, Jack.’ Nina stuck out her tongue at Chase, prompting him to roll his eyes again.

Mitchell gave her an amused look before regarding the view ahead once more. ‘You think this castle might be the one Rust mentioned?’

‘I don’t think so. It’s owned by the Greek government, but Bernd implied that the one he was talking about was privately owned. Besides, this isn’t exactly close to his home.’

‘Good point.’

Mitchell had made arrangements in advance; after passing through the village, the SUV was met at the castle gates by a representative of the Greek Ministry of Culture, a tall, hook-nosed man in his fifties with skin that practically matched the island in its weather-beaten ruggedness. When his visitors emerged from their vehicle, he briefly greeted Mitchell before turning his attention with rather more enthusiasm to Nina. ‘Dr Wilde! A great honour to meet you, a great honour!’ He clasped her right hand in both of his and squeezed it forcefully.

‘Thanks,’ she replied, wondering if she would get her hand back before he cut off her circulation. ‘Nice to meet you - and I’m glad you agreed to help us.’

‘I would hardly turn down a chance to meet the discoverer of Atlantis! You have already done wonders for our tourist industry - anything to do with Plato or Hercules is now very popular!’ He finally released her, then shook hands with Chase. ‘Petros Georgiades. Good to meet you all.’ He gestured in the direction of the castle. ‘So, what would you like to know about Peter of Koroneou?’

Surprisingly little of the castle’s interior was accessible to tourists, several sections being blocked off by scaffolding. ‘Restoration work,’ Georgiades explained as he led his visitors past a cordon and deeper into the building. ‘Until about ten years ago, parts of the castle were in the same condition as the fortifications outside. The walls have mostly been repaired, but there are still unsafe areas. It is a slow process.’

Chase glanced up at the ceiling. ‘It’s not going to collapse on us, is it?’

‘I hope not! But try not to bang your head on anything, eh?’ He chuckled, then stopped at a low arched doorway. ‘This is Peter’s tomb. Please, go inside.’

Nina ducked through the entrance, finding herself inside a cool, musty chamber. A pair of lamps on metal stands provided illumination, the only natural light coming from three small stained-glass windows high on the south wall. At the centre of the room was what was unmistakably a stone coffin. ‘Is his body still here?’ she asked as the others entered.

Georgiades shook his head. ‘The castle has been occupied and robbed many times.’ He indicated the lid of the coffin; a jagged diagonal split showed where it had been smashed open in the past.

‘Even though the people of the village sometimes managed to hide the most valuable relics, eventually almost everything was taken.’

Nina was about to ask another question, but Mitchell got in first. ‘Was he buried with a sword?’

‘Oh, yes - the sword presented to him by the Holy Roman Emperor.’ Nina, Chase and Mitchell traded looks; at least part of Rust’s research had apparently been accurate. Georgiades noticed the exchange. ‘The sword is why you are here?’

‘It’s one of the reasons,’ Mitchell said smoothly. ‘Do you know what happened to it?’

‘It is part of local legend. Look.’ The Greek indicated the central window. Nina craned to get a better look at the mottled glass, making out the figure of a man in armour bearing a red Crusader cross on his chest, a sword raised in his right hand.

‘Is that Peter?’ she asked. Georgiades answered in the affirmative. She looked more closely. ‘Is this an original window?’

‘Yes - the one on the left was broken and has been restored, but the others are both thirteenth or fourteenth century, as far as we know.’ Georgiades had a slight smile, as if waiting for her to spot something.

‘The sword . . .’ she said, frowning at the image, before glancing at the coffin. ‘Is it okay if I climb up for a better look?’

‘Peter is long gone. He will not mind.’ Nina nodded, then carefully climbed on to the end of the coffin.

Closer up, the window revealed more, though the poor condition of the glass made resolving the finer details difficult. There seemed to be small symbols on the sword’s blade, ornate circular patterns, but it was the weapon as a whole that had caused

Nina’s puzzlement - and attracted her interest. ‘Why’s his sword on fire?’ she asked.

That was clearly why Georgiades had been smiling. ‘That is the legend!’ he crowed