The Hunt for Excalibur

30 Pendragon’s Fury

The chauffeur got out and opened the back passenger door for the gaunt man in the tailored suit. He put his bowler hat on and straightened his blazer before gripping his walking stick firmly in his hand. A war injury was the cause of damage to his scalp and right leg, which was ample reason for his array of hats and walking sticks.

“Good morning, Bernard,” he greeted in a tone of calm boredom.

“Sir! What a surprise,” Bernard replied and went to shake the Major’s hand. “You should have called ahead. I could have prepared a meal and some cognac.”

“Oh, that would not be necessary, my boy,” the military veteran rasped in his heavy accent. “I have just come to collect the scabbard from you.”

Bernard froze. Should he pretend that he did not find it and perpetuate this subterfuge? Fortunately, his visitor kept talking for now, giving him time to feel out the situation. Looking up at the ancient stone masonry, wet and covered in moss, Major Rian remarked, “This place would make a great restoration project, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely, sir,” Bernard agreed.

“I trust you do have some hot tea,” Major Rian requested.

“Of course. Please, come with me to my temporary chambers,” the antiques dealer invited. His trademark charisma filtered through and soon he felt a bit more relaxed in the Major’s company. Through the main hall of the abbey they walked to the next staircase that would take them all the way down the corridor to the west wing of the ruin.

“These walls are still strong. It would make a good stronghold for the Euphrates Society to keep our more medieval artifacts,” Major Rian said, admiring the sturdy architecture and solid cement floor. “Like Excalibur, for instance.”

“Here we go,” Bernard huffed as he led the Major into the former chamber of the Stabsscharführer. “Please, make yourself comfortable. I will get the tea on.”

“I shall not be staying long, Bernard. All I want is a cup of tea and some Warkadur. Do you have any?” the bald, small-framed man asked sarcastically. Those who conducted business with him knew that his more comical remarks were never intended for humor. Usually, Major Rian resorted to jest when he grew tired to repeating himself.

“Tea? I have plenty,” Bernard smiled.

“I know you have my scabbard, Bernard. I know, because your sister informed me of it,” the Major said in slow and clear intonation that stirred fear in his subordinates.

“Ava told you that I have Warkadur?” Bernard gasped. Suddenly it made sense that the Major would find the abbey so easily. “And it was Ava who told you where I was, too.”

Major Rian nodded. “She told me that you are working with Willard to find Excalibur, my boy, so stop bullshitting me. She also informed me that Court Callany had expired a few days ago along with Yiannis Aelo. That means that you have been stalling me while Willard obtains Excalibur, using my scabbard to find the way to it.”

“That is utter nonsense!” Bernard shrieked.

“Mind your tone!” Major Rian reprimanded him, but Bernard turned to face the Major. If his own sister could betray him, he had nothing left to lose. If he was going to be punished or killed, he would take the risk, because it was a relief to know that the shit had struck the fan and all bets were off.

“Let me tell you the truth, Major Rian. Regardless of whether you believe me or my sister in this regard, I will do you the honor of telling you the truth. What you do with it is your prerogative,” Bernard said.

“If you are going to waste my time, give me my tea, at least,” Major Rian sneered. “By the time my tea is finished, you had better have my scabbard ready or we end our association right here.”

“Fair enough,” Bernard said. He had the kettle on in the corner of the chamber where the makeshift cooking area was. In the wall by the kettle, the chamber had a small cupboard built in. Hessler used it for a medicine cabinet when he was in charge of the occupation of Guernsey. Small tins of instant food and bread rolls were stacked for about a week’s worth. Among those, a coffee tin and sacks of sugar. “As you see, I have no fridge. Will you accept black tea?” he asked the Major.

“Yes, yes, with three sugars,” Major Rian snapped. “Stop procrastinating.”

Bernard took the small tin from the old medicine cabinet. It has a faded ‘W’ printed on it, and was dented from years of military travel with Hessler. Bernard opened the tin and scooped up three heaps, adding the tea bag to steep for a minute. Then he added sugar and stirred it.

“Here you go. Now please, let me enlighten you,” Bernard implored, “because I have just received shocking news.”

“What is that?” Major Rian asked, taking a sip of his tea. The scalding water prevented him from tasting anything as it burned his tongue.

“That my sister, who was supposed to be in league with me, has apparently turned on me to take Excalibur for herself,” Bernard said plainly. His eyes filled with tears at the betrayal, but he was not about to go quietly. “She is, in fact, with Mr. Willard right now. They have elicited the help of David Purdue in finding Excalibur…”

“What?” the emaciated tyrant roared. “What did you say? David Purdue?”

“Aye, Major. But there is more. I was told that you gave the order to kill Purdue’s associate, a historian I am currently holding hostage in this very abbey,” Bernard laid it on.

The old man was livid. “By whom? Who told you I gave kill orders before Excalibur is successfully recovered?”

“My sister, Major.” He tossed his cell phone at the Major. “Have a look. She called me with your orders mere minutes before you arrived, so, if she is out to fuck me, I can return the favor by rolling on her.”

“This is completely outrageous!” Major Rian shouted as he saw the time on the phone notification. His rage quickened his heartbeat dangerously, but he was not done here. “There is no place for betrayal in my ranks. Between the insects, yes, but if it reaches me… if it is used on me, it has to be dealt with!”

Bernard smiled. Ava had a surprise coming and she had no idea. The Major finished his tea before Bernard could tell the rest of the story, but he was content. He watched the old man take out his communication device and link in to his affiliates. “This is Pendragon, Alpha code 58689. Get me Beaumains,” he barked. While he waited, his chest rose and fell intensely. He looked up at Bernard. “Where are they?”

“I do not know that. They will have deciphered the scabbard’s etchings to find a starting point, but I do not have that information,” Bernard explained. The old man sighed, waiting for his call to go through. His eyes snapped to the ground as the call was connected. “Yes, Beaumains. Willard breached. 224 Londale Street. Glasgow. Now! Report back in one hour. And Beaumains?” he paused. “No survivors.”