The Hunt for Excalibur

19 Gathered for the Feast

“It was an absolute pleasure to have you here, Dr. Gould,” smiled the flamboyant Principal Willard as he shook Nina’s hand. Miss April was, as always, grinning like the Cheshire Cat, hands folded neatly in front of her.

“Glad I could be of some assistance,” Nina replied cordially, secretly wishing she was already in her car en route to Wrichtishousis. She could sure do with Lily’s insulin-threatening baklava and a stiff Scotch from Purdue’s new and improved bar cabinet, not to mention a fag. Nina’s lungs begged for a fag, but she had to take care of the pleasantries first.

“Please, come and see us anytime,” Principal Willard invited. “And thank you so much for what you did for Brian Callany, Dr. Gould. If you had not been there to help him, God knows what could have happened to him.”

“Oh, the poor thing,” Nina said. “Please give him my regards when he returns to school on Monday.”

“Will do,” Miss April smiled, pulling her pointy, narrow nose into a wrinkly mess. “We are going to miss you, so please keep in touch, alright?”

“Oh, hey, here,” Nina gasped, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out a business card and handed it to Miss April, who was ecstatic to have Nina’s e-mail and number. With a high- pitched yelp, she embraced Nina in a tight hug that lasted what felt like an hour to the historian. Looking over Miss April’s shoulder, Nina chuckled as the headmaster shrugged and shook his head at the teacher’s over-zealous goodbye.

Finally, Nina made it into her car. It was Friday afternoon late and due to the season, night came sooner every day. She hoped to miss most of the heavy traffic on the main roads, but when it came to the traffic between Glasgow and Edinburgh, she had a better chance of growing a tail. As she watched them waving in her wake, she felt a great sense of relief. In fact, it was a feeling she had not felt in ages. That same happiness shared by all nine-to-fivers who get to the end of the Friday afternoon sprint and leave the office doors behind until Monday.

“I am ready to party, man,” she mumbled happily, turning on the radio for some rock music and the latest weather forecast. She got her phone and placed it in the hands-free kit so that she could speak while driving.

“Wrichtishousis Estate. How may I help you?” a woman answered.

“Jane? You still there?” Nina asked Purdue’s personal assistant.

“Mr. Purdue is throwing a small party, as you may know, Dr. Gould,” Jane explained. “You know that always means the staff get a little get-together before the real party.

“Oh yes! I forgot about that lovely unwritten rule!” Nina laughed. She had heard about it before. Purdue, being the generous hedonistic type, always allowed his staff to have an informal office party whenever he had a jamboree on the cards. “Is he there?”

“He is not, Dr. Gould, but he will be back in about thirty minutes,” Jane reported. “Shall I ask him to call you?”

“No, no, no worries. Thanks Jane. I will see him when I get there,” Nina said. “Enjoy your party!”

She did not really want to make a big deal of the inquiry about the scabbard, so she elected not to tell Jane that she was anxious to hear what Purdue could find out. After all, she would have plenty of time to talk to him at the get together. Nina wondered if Sam would be there. They had not spoken for a while, since Sam was on assignment. Both she and Purdue knew not to call Sam while he was doing a journalism gig. It interfered with his work and could jeopardize his safety if his phone rang at the wrong time.

The M8 between Glasgow and Edinburgh was not too hectic, to her surprise. On the radio, Nina heard the newscaster report on something so interesting that she actually turned up the volume.

‘…police said they are still investigating the armed robbery, but will appreciate any light the public might be able to shed on the case. The Hall Hoard, as it was known to collectors and antique connoisseurs across the world has made headlines before when the victim, the late Mr. Rufus Stanhope Hall, was locked in a dispute with a well-known auction house over the rightful ownership of the Excalibur Scabbard. Police spokesperson Hilary McDonald told news teams that the police have reason to believe that the two deceased robbers had a third accomplice who fled on foot with some of the relics from the collection.’

Nina’s heart skipped a beat. “A scabbard? An Excalibur scabbard? Oh my God. This is why Brian was scared to death that his grandfather would find out he took it.” Her mouth remained agape as her reminiscence replayed the dialogue between her and the child, the refusal to let her take pictures… and the clearest of all the memories — the strange glow that flickered on the scabbard when she shoved it. “Oh my God,” she kept whispering as she accelerated down the highway to get to Purdue’s house. She had to know what he had learned about the object before she went off on a tangent, but Nina was pretty sure that she was onto something.

An hour and a half later Nina’s car pulled up to the front façade of the grand old mansion where Charles waited with an umbrella.

“Welcome, Dr. Gould,” he smiled dryly.

“Am I underdressed, Charles?” she asked.

“Absolutely not, Madam,” he answered. “The dress for this evening is smart casual and may I say, you do look rather smart.”

Nina smiled and gave the butler a quick curtsy. “Why, thank you, my good man.”

“Nina!” she heard Purdue cry from inside the manor. “Delighted you could make it, my dear.”

Charles shook his head as he walked Nina up the stairs to the door, holding the umbrella over her head. With an excellent poker face, she mumbled through static lips, “Charles, what is he up to? He is up to something.”

In the same fashion, the butler answered Nina by also employing some effective ventriloquism. “He bought an old table, Madam. Apparently you are supposed to be wild with envy.”

“Ah,” she said. “Alright. A table. I am turning green already.”

Charles tried not to laugh and ushered the beautiful historian into the lobby where Purdue waited with two strangers. Instantly, her eye fell on the blue-eyed man in black who stood beside Purdue. In turn, he engaged her as well.

“Nina, my dear! I am elated you are here,” Purdue smiled, embracing Nina and kissing her cheek. He whispered, “I have something that is going to blow you away.”

She scoffed and winked. “If I had a quid for every time you said that before.”

Purdue returned her jest with an uncomfortable snicker and promptly changed the subject. “Dr. Nina Gould, please meet the people who are responsible to decking out my new dining hall in splendor. Ava and Bernard Somerset.”

‘Great. Of course he would be married,’ she thought, feeling the loss of what could have been. The thirty-five-year-old dark haired man looked like James Bond, and Nina could not keep her eyes off him, but learning that he and the breathtaking woman had the same last name, she made the obvious assumption. Nina shook hands with them both. Bernard was equally taken with Nina, especially her small, but buff, body.

‘It is going to be exceedingly hard to hurt her,’ Bernard lamented. He finally got to meet the renowned historian mentioned by Purdue, the one who knows the whereabouts of the scabbard from the Hall Hoard — and he was spellbound. This presented a conflict inside him, but he was part of something bigger than his own desires, and had to curb his appetite for the black-eyed beauty for now.

A kiss to Nina’s slender hand had her body reacting in favorable ways, but fortunately, that was only evident by the flush in her face. “It is an honor to meet you, Dr. Gould.”

“Call c-ca… call me Nina, please,” she stammered. Purdue raised an eyebrow at the sight. He knew her intimately and he knew what the red glow in her cheeks meant. Normally he would be insanely jealous, but tonight the fetching Ava held his attention and diverted it from the advances Bernard was making toward his beloved Nina.

“I believe you have been in Glasgow the past week,” Bernard started, but Purdue stepped in and waved at him from behind Nina. He gestured to the table, reminding Bernard about the reason Purdue had invited her. “But you can tell me about that once we get you a glass of wine?”

“She drinks single malt, actually,” a man corrected Bernard from the doorway.

“Sam!” Nina smiled warmly, as the rugged, dark journalist entered the lobby as if he owned it. Ava stopped breathing for a moment. Sam and Bernard locked eyes — and horns — immediately, as Sam approached. He kissed Nina a sliver too long for it to be platonic, and then set eyes on the woman with the silvery tresses. Ava felt her knees buckle as the wild haired stranger came to meet her. “Sam Cleave,” he smiled, deliberately smoldering to ward off the idiot in the cheap black jacket.

Suddenly, Purdue cleared his throat. He felt somewhat intimidated by all the competition here in his palace of grandeur. “Great to see you again, old boy,” he smiled at Sam as the two men greeted. This time, Purdue’s whisper was for Sam. “Dibs on Ava. Do not make me regret that I invited you,” he warned, nudging Sam playfully.

“Fair game,” Sam teased him. “What is it you wanted to show Nina to provoke her jealousy, then?” Sam asked loudly on purpose.

“Oh, Jesus, yes, let us just get to it already,” Nina groaned, while the others grinned at her. Purdue took her hand and led her to the renovated dining hall. The wall torches were lit and lent the perfect atmosphere to the medieval décor. Sam stepped aside for Ava and Bernard to follow Nina and Purdue. His deed was mistaken for chivalry, while all he wanted to do was to admire Ava’s distinct shape from behind. Nina gasped as she walked into the large room, and, as Purdue had anticipated, she went straight to the grand round table.

“Holy shit! This is at least two centuries old,” she marveled. Nina slowly rounded the table entirely. Like a blind woman reading Braille, she was running her fingers over the etchings and crude filing of the wood as if she was reading it, as if the table told her secrets. No words came from her lips as she went all the way around, but her eyes told deep tales as she savored the table. “My God, Purdue, it is simply beautiful.”

“Thank you, my dear,” he smiled happily.

She swayed her head to the side and said, “You can have it delivered by Monday. I shall be home.”

“Ha!” he uttered in surprise, while his guests chuckled at her response. “The only way you will get this table in your home is if you marry me and move in.”

She stared at Purdue. Ava stared at Purdue. Sam stared at Purdue. The host felt terribly awkward about his dead serious desire masquerading as a joke. Bernard did not like it one bit. If he was going to deliver this woman to Major Rian, he was certainly going to have her to himself first. He would not be challenged by Purdue or his financial thrall. Nina was his, until she would meet her fate.