“We’ve hardly stopped since the tomb was discovered,” Colonel Jamieson admitted, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve no idea the amount of interest there’s been. I think every antiquarian society in the world’s accessed the website we’ve set up …”
“It’s good of you to see me, in that case,” Sir James smiled. “Sheer curiosity on my part, I confess …”
The colonel grinned understandingly. “We’ve had experts in to examine it,” he said, “and they reckon it was made around the time of King Arthur.” Rising from his desk, he ushered Sir James towards a glass-topped table that held the sword and the horn. “From around 500 AD, I’m told.” He unlocked the lid and lifted the sword reverently from its bed of dark blue velvet. Holding it across the palms of both hands, he showed it to Sir James. “Here, have a closer look.”
Sir James took the sword carefully, exclaiming at its weight as he examined it closely. It had, indeed, been beautifully made; the blade gleamed and the fire-breathing dragon that curled round the hilt had certainly been delicately carved. Nevertheless, he felt more than slightly disappointed. Knowing that it was a magic sword, he’d have expected some reaction from his firestone — but there was nothing; no wave of excitement, no buzz of recognition. He frowned slightly. Maybe, he thought, it was because of the hex that Lord Alarid had put around it.
Colonel Jamieson’s voice broke into his thoughts. “We’re thinking of displaying it in the castle, along with the horn, the flag and the suit of armour,” he said, replacing the sword on its bed of velvet. “It’s a magnificent find!”
“Yes, one way or another, the earthquake’s caused quite a stir,” Sir James observed.
“In more ways than one,” the colonel agreed, “and quite frankly we’re planning to make the most of the King Arthur theme this year in the hope that it’ll draw lots of visitors to the castle. We’re expecting a flood of tourists.”
“What about the tomb, itself?” Sir James queried.
“We’ll probably open it up eventually,” the colonel nodded, his face brightening, “So far the engineers’ reports have been positive. Most of the tunnels under the castle are notoriously unstable but this one, remember, was cut out of the rock. If we could have it cleared by the start of the Festival, it would really draw the crowds. I mean, going along a secret passage to a buried tomb …”
“Quite something,” agreed Sir James.
“Quite a money-spinner,” corrected the colonel. “And I’m not being mercenary,” he added, seeing Sir James’s look of surprise. “You’ve no idea how much it costs to maintain the castle buildings at the best of times. Astronomical, I assure you. The earthquake gave the buildings a good shaking — you’ll have heard that we’ve had to cancel the Tattoo because of it. The esplanade is badly cracked.”
“What about a different venue?” suggested Sir James . “There’s always the Meadows.”
“We thought of that, but a circus is already booked to appear there. A pity, as the Meadows would be ideal; plenty of room for the crowds,” the colonel remarked absent-mindedly. Then he stiffened and whirled round. “I’ve got it!” he said excitedly. “James, I’ve just had a brainwave! It all ties in.”
“Ties in with what?” Sir James looked blank.
“With the sword and the horn … and the knight! We’ll have a tournament … a real mediaeval tournament with people in costume!”
“A tournament?” Sir James sounded wary.
“We could have it on Arthur’s Seat with Holyrood Palace in the background. You know the sort of thing! Knights in shining armour, with lances, knocking one another off horses …”
Sir James’s eyes sharpened at the mention of Arthur’s Seat. He wasn’t sure what the MacArthur would say to that but as there was no stopping the Colonel, he nodded his head. “It’s a good idea and original as well. We’ve never had anything like that at the Festival before.”
“Mmmm,” the colonel said, his mind already working out the details, “it’s a pity you have to go back to the States or I’d have asked you to do the commentary. You couldn’t put it off, could you?”
Sir James shook his head. “I’ve a business deal to wrap up,” he said ruefully, “otherwise I’d have been delighted to take it on. It’s a fabulous idea. And you’re right! There’s a whole host of things you could tie in with it!”
Colonel Jamieson nodded, enthusiasm flooding through him once more as the scale of the idea hit him. “True,” he agreed, as he started to pace the room excitedly. “We could have mediaeval banquets with venison and hog roasts. People dressed in costume; a funfair; pedlars selling scarves and trinkets; fortune-tellers; jesters in costume — it would be fantastic! And actually, if we moved the circus to Arthur’s Seat we could still go ahead with the Tattoo in the Meadows. What do you think?”
“I think it’s a great idea,” approved Sir James, warming to the theme, “and you’re right, it links everything together; the knight and the sword.”
“We’ve had masses of publicity about the knight and the tomb already,” the colonel said excitedly, “but this will really draw the crowds. A tournament! I can’t think why I didn’t think of it before!”