The Secret of Excalibur

asked.

Chloe shook her head and pointed at one of the terraces to their side. ‘No, but you can still see where it was - most of it, anyway. Some parts have been eroded to the point where they’re barely climbable. And if you did follow it, it’d take you over four hours to reach the top.’ She looked sidelong at Nina. ‘The Glastonbury labyrinth doesn’t have any connection to King Arthur - at least, not that I know of. Are you just asking out of curiosity, or . . .’

Nina stopped walking. ‘There might be a link, but we’re not sure. Which is why we needed the opinion of an expert.’ She took out several photographs. ‘What do you make of these?’

Chloe examined the first photo, a close-up of one of the symbols of the labyrinth inscribed on the blade they had found in Syria. ‘It looks like the same basic path . . .’ She checked the next image. ‘So does this. And - what is this?’ she asked, reaching a picture showing the whole blade.

Nina took a breath. ‘We think that’s Caliburn.’

‘You’re joking,’ Chloe gasped. She waited for a response, and got none. ‘You’re not joking? Oh, my God, you’re not joking!’

‘We’re not joking,’ Nina assured her.

Chloe hurriedly flicked through the rest of the photos. ‘If it were anyone else but you, I wouldn’t believe them. But - you really think this is Caliburn?’

‘As far as we can tell. But the reason we’re here is that . . .’ She paused and looked round. Although there were other people on the Tor, none of them were within earshot. ‘We think these symbols are a clue to something hidden here.’

Chloe eyed her. ‘Something?’

‘Or someone. King Arthur.’ Chloe let out a little excited squeak. ‘There’s a chance Arthur’s tomb could be here, under the Tor. Problem is, we don’t know where.’

‘But you’re the Director of the International Heritage Agency, you could get whatever equipment you want!’ said Chloe, her eyes lighting up at the thought. ‘A complete ground-penetrating radar survey, or even a gravimetric—’

‘Unfortunately, there’s a time factor involved,’ Mitchell cut in. ‘I can’t go into details for security reasons, but if the tomb is here, both our governments have agreed we need to locate it as soon as possible.’

‘We think you’re the best person to help us find it,’ Nina said to Chloe. ‘Do you think you can?’

‘Well - well, I’m flattered,’ Chloe stammered, blushing again. ‘But I don’t know. I mean, I know the Tor very well, but . . .’ She examined the pictures again. ‘Unless you’ve got something specific to work from, I don’t know how much help I can be. This is the pattern of the Glastonbury labyrinth, yes, but - how did you find this? How does finding Caliburn lead you to Arthur’s tomb?’

‘It’s . . . complicated,’ said Nina. ‘And that’s the understatement of the year. But long story short: we think those symbols were inscribed on Caliburn by the Glastonbury monks as a way to find Arthur’s tomb - his real tomb, not the one they dug up for show in 1191. It’s where they hid Arthur and Guinevere, to keep them safe . . . and it’s also where they hid Excalibur.’

‘Excalibur?’ Chloe’s mouth hung open for a moment. ‘Blimey. That would be a hell of a find.’ She suddenly looked worried. ‘If you find it, you will . . . you will mention that I helped, won’t you?’

Nina gave her a reassuring smile. ‘You’ll get full credit, believe me. But the main thing is actually finding it in the first place.’ She pointed at one of the symbols in the topmost photo. ‘We assume it’s got something to do with these dots marked on the labyrinth, but we don’t know what they represent.’

Chloe scrutinised the picture, brow furrowing. ‘If you account for the real labyrinth being distorted by the shape of the Tor,’ she said, ‘then the nearest of the dots would be . . . on the third terrace. Over here!’ She picked her way along the narrow, scrubby terrace to one side, Nina and Mitchell following, then came to a sudden stop. ‘Of course!’

‘What is it?’ Nina asked, catching up.

‘It’s a marker stone!’ At Chloe’s feet was an unassuming lump of rock, half buried in the ground. ‘They were used so people walking the labyrinth could tell how far they still had to go. Most of them are missing now, but there are still a few in place.’

‘So the tomb’s under one of the markers?’ said Mitchell.

‘Maybe,’ Nina said, ‘but which one? Each of the symbols has different stones marked. And we’re missing the symbol on the sword’s tip.’ She took the pictures back from Chloe, fanning them out like a hand of cards. ‘How many of these marker stones were there originally?’

‘Nobody’s sure,’ Chloe replied, ‘but probably about thirty.’

The number of stones marked on the various symbols of the labyrinth seemed to confirm that. Nina looked back and forth between the photos. Each symbol countained a different number of stones, in different positions, but there was definitely a crossover between them. Some stones appeared on more than one labyrinth, and of those some showed up more frequently than others . . .

‘I need a pen and paper,’ she said, an idea taking form.

Chloe rummaged through her little rucksack. ‘I always come prepared,’ she said, taking out first a Thermos flask, then a large ham and egg salad sandwich wrapped in plastic, before finally producing a dog-eared notebook and a biro. ‘Here.’

Nina took the pen and notebook. ‘What’re you thinking?’ Mitchell asked.

‘That we can narrow down where to look even if we don’t have enough information to find it exactly.’ She drew a large copy of the labyrinth on a clean page, then added the positions of the marker stones from the symbol in the first photograph. ‘Okay, that’s the first one. Now, let’s add the second . . .’

From each picture in turn, she marked the stones on her drawing of the labyrinth. It took several minutes, but gradually the clues hidden by the monks became clear. Only three stones appeared on all of the labyrinths.

Nina regarded the final result - not merely a drawing, now a map. ‘I bet the symbol on the missing piece of the sword would only have one of those three marked on it,’ she said, circling them. ‘That’s where the tomb is, that’s how to find the entrance. It just looks like a decoration, but if you know what it means, it leads you right to the door!’

Chloe took a closer look. ‘I know how to find those points, but none of them have marker stones any more. And if there really is an entrance, it won’t be easy to find - thousands of people follow the labyrinth every year, but nobody’s ever discovered anything this major.’

‘But they didn’t know where to look, did they?’ said Mitchell. ‘Where’s the nearest one?’

Nina gave the notebook to Chloe. She turned it to match the orientation of the crude map with the Tor. ‘The fifth terrace, west side. This way.’ She led them back to the path uphill.

Once they reached the terrace, Chloe guided them round the Tor’s flank. ‘Somewhere around here,’ she said finally, coming to a stop. The hillside was steep, only the very top of St Michael’s tower visible above. But there was nothing unusual about the spot, just rough grass and rabbit holes.

‘I don’t see anything,’ complained Mitchell.

‘If anything’s here, it’ll be buried. Here, give these a try.’ Chloe opened her rucksack again, taking out a handful of thin steel tent pegs, eight inches long with hooked ends, and handing one each to him and Nina. ‘Have a poke.’

Nina bent and shoved the spike into the earth. It was quite dense, offering resistance, but she kept pushing until it was as deep as it could go. ‘Well, nothing there,’ she said, pulling it back out and trying a different spot a few feet away. Mitchell got the idea and joined in, as did Chloe.

But nearly half an hour of probing discovered nothing but stones: certainly nothing that might conceal an entrance. ‘So much for that,’ Mitchell said.

‘There’re still two more sites,’ Nina reminded him.

The next was on the sixth terrace, looking northwest. Now within sight of both the summit and the steep zigzag path up the Tor’s north side, the group attracted some curious looks from tourists as they jabbed at the ground. But again they found nothing.

‘Third time lucky,’ Chloe said hopefully as she checked the map once more. ‘Okay, the last one is . . . first terrace, on the southeastern side. All the way back down and around, I’m afraid.’

Nina eyed the sun, which was steadily dropping towards the western horizon. ‘Will we still have time to get