Page 85 of The Falcon Laird

Robbie was leaping up and down. “The enchanted king! We saw him! We saw the enchanted king with all his knights!”

Christian grabbed Robbie’s arm. “Who did you see? Where?”

“King Arthur!” Michaelmas said, as excited as the others. “We saw a vision of them, all sleeping in the dark cave, just as the legend says.”

“A vision? What legend?” Gavin demanded. “What in God’s name is going on here?”

Fergus put an arm around Patrick. “Calm down, now. Tell us what you saw, and where.”

“We saw a vision,” Patrick said breathlessly. “A magical vision. Of King Arthur and all his knights. And their magic swords, and armor.”

“Where?” Fergus asked sharply.

“In the underground chamber,” Michaelmas said. “I’m sorry, mother. They would not listen to me, would not stay in the kitchens to play.”

“You are not to go down there without me,” Christian said sternly.

“We only peeked in the room,” Patrick said. “And we saw the vision. A torch burning, and knights all sleeping in armor around their king, just as the legend says.”

“What legend?” Gavin demanded again.

Christian sighed. “There is an old tale that somewhere in Scotland, King Arthur and his knights lie sleeping under an enchanted hill.”

“Ah, the tale you told them once.” He remembered their little group clustered around a hearthfire.

“And the underground room is inside a hill, like the rock o’ Kilglassie,” Patrick said. “And we saw the great king and his knights, asleep until the people need them again.”

“We did not disturb them,” Robbie said. “We made no noise.”

“Jesu,” Fergus looked intently at Christian.

Gavin saw that and saw her return the glance. “What is going on here?” he asked sharply.

“Gavin, I wanted to tell you—”

“Come see!” Robbie pulled at Gavin’s hand. Looking down at the child, Gavin glanced at Fergus and Christian. Their faces looked sober and guilty. Something distinctly odd was happening.

“Show me your King Arthur,” he said, and went out the door. The children followed him like puppies, eager and clumsy and noisy.

“He might not be there!” Will said. “It was a vision!”

“He will be angry do you make a noise and wake him!” Robbie yelled. “We will suffer the curse o’ Merlin!”

“Then we’ll be quiet as mice, Robert Macnab,” Gavin said. “Now stop shouting to wake the dead and show me.”

Following in Gavin’sswift wake, Christian and Fergus hurried to the underground storage level. Surrounded by chattering children, she stayed quiet beside Fergus. His silence and tension mirrored her own. Neither of them could stop Gavin now. And both knew which king slept under the hill.

She knew, too, that while she trusted Gavin with her own life, her heart and soul, she did not know how far his tolerance toward Scottish matters extended. His sense of personal honor was about to clash powerfully with his obligation to England.

Reaching the hidden foyer at the end of the tunnel, Gavin shushed the children and slowly opened the door. He peered inside, holding back one child, then another as they squirmed beside him. Then he straightened and shut the door, turning to stare at Christian.

“He’s there!” Robbie whispered loudly. “He’s still there! And snoring, too!”

“Merlin was surely at Kilglassie, long ago,” Will whispered in awe. “King Arthur sleeps beneath these walls.”

“Go back to the hall,” Gavin said, pointing. The children lowered their heads and filed away.

Next he folded his arms and stared at Christian and Fergus. “A king sleeps there for certain. And I think you may know it, both of you.”