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At one point it felt like the party would go all night, but eventually the competitors decided they wanted to be at their best for the next day and began to head off to bed. Finally only a few remained: Arthur, Woodsmoke, Beansprout, Brenna, Tom, Finnlugh, Nerian, Jack and Fahey. They sat in front of the fire, having a nightcap and winding down.
“I had such a great time,” Beansprout said, leaning back in her chair and kicking her shoes off. “I haven’t seen so many people for ages.”
“You certainly know how to throw a good party,” Jack agreed. “I think your story went well, Fahey.”
Woodsmoke laughed. “Well, you can’t go wrong with a tale about the return of Merlin, and all set in this castle!”
Fahey smiled and sipped his mead. “The trick is to know one’s audience.”
“You know that brooch I found, Merlin?” said Tom. “We think it belongs to the Wolf Mage.”
“No,” corrected Nerian, holding up a finger. “I said it symbolised him.”
“What brooch?” Arthur asked, looking between them.
“Sorry, Arthur,” Tom said. “I found this earlier.” He pulled the brooch out of his pocket and gave it to Arthur. “It was at the bottom of the orchard wall. I showed it to Merlin, and then Nerian, Finnlugh and Fahey.”
“Oh, leave me till last,” Arthur complained.
“You were busy,” Tom pointed out.
Merlin ignored them both. “Well I have never heard of the Wolf Mage. Who is he?”
Finnlugh explained the connection to the Forger of Light. “It’s no wonder you haven’t heard of him.”
“But,” Tom interrupted, “it seems Galatine was made for the Wolf Mage. We think someone wants it back.”
Arthur now looked exasperated. “No, Galatine belonged to Gawain.”
“But it wasn’t made for him, Arthur,” Nerian explained softly. “Vivian appropriated it.”
Arthur shot to his feet and starting pacing up and down. “That woman always interferes!”
“Arthur,” Merlin remonstrated, “she acts for the best.”
He snorted. “Whose best, though?”
“Yours, usually,” Merlin said, scratching his chin.
That seemed to deflate Arthur’s anger, and he sat with a huff. “Do we need to worry? I mean, are they dangerous?”
“Maybe,” said Finnlugh. “It depends who’s after it, and how badly they want it. And ...” he paused thoughtfully, “what they want it for.”
“Where is Galatine now?” Woodsmoke asked.
“In the armoury, of course,” Tom said.
With unspoken agreement everyone got to their feet and set off, through dark corridors and down shadowy stairways to the basement, where the armoury was kept. They came to a halt in front of a large solid wooden door with two locks, and two iron bars across it. Standing to attention was a huge Cervini, who Tom recognised as Dargus, one of the Cervini who’d been eager to help Arthur on his return.
“Evening, Dargus,” said Arthur. “Has anything unusual happened here tonight? Have you seen or heard anything?”
“No, Sir,” he said. “Everything is quiet as usual. The last activity was about six hours ago when the Cervini locked their weapons away for the night, after final practice this afternoon.”
“Good. Open the door so we can check a few things, please.”
Dargus looked confused, but did as he was asked.
The weapons room was windowless, made of solid stone with a paved floor. There were racks and racks of weapons, most of them belonging to visitors who were here for the tournament. They were grouped together into swords, knives, shields, lances, and others. Adjoining the weapons room was a smithy for making repairs to the weapons.
After lighting the lamps, Tom led the way to the far side of the room where the swords were housed. Excalibur was mounted on a rack in pride of place, and next to it was Galatine. Despite knowing it was securely locked and guarded, Tom felt relief wash over him. “It’s here.”
“May I?” Finnlugh asked. He lifted the sword and held it under the nearest lamp.
Galatine’s hilt had a simple design of curving interlocked symbols, and on both sides, embedded at the cross, was a yellow gemstone with a swirl of black. Fine engravings ran down its blade. Tom had often puzzled at these – they looked like writing, but he couldn’t read it, unlike Arthur’s which clearly read, “Take me Up” and “Cast me away.”
“Have you ever wondered what the gemstone is, Tom, and why it is yellow?” Finnlugh asked.
“Not really,” Tom said, feeling a little embarrassed.
“It’s a fire opal. And I believe the yellow represents a wolf’s eyes. Or rather, Filtiarn’s wolves’ eyes; their eyes were only ever yellow.”
Tom thought back to the wolves he’d been surrounded by the other day. They’d all had yellow eyes.
Finnlugh continued, “There’s something written here in ancient fey script. I must admit, I can’t read it. Nerian?”
Nerian examined it carefully. “That’s because it’s magical script, very old now, and not commonly used. There are two lines – one on each side.”
“What does it say?” Tom said.
“When the Wolf Moon rises,” he turned the blade over, “so shall the Wolf Mage.”
“What does that mean?” Arthur asked, sounding annoyed. Arthur hated not knowing everything.
“That makes things a little more worrying,” Nerian said. “The Wolf Moon rises next month.”
“What’s the Wolf Moon?” Beansprout asked. “It sounds romantic!”
“It occurs once every thousand years. Everyone will celebrate it,” Nerian said.
Woodsmoke agreed. “Yes, there’s nothing sinister about it, it just doesn’t happen that often.”
“Well there may not be anything sinister about it normally, but it says here the Wolf Mage rises on the Wolf Moon! Is he some kind of werewolf?” Jack said, casting a worried glance at Tom and Beansprout.
Fahey sighed. “No, he is not a Werewolf. What a vivid imagination you have, Jack.”
“Can I suggest we continue this elsewhere?” Beansprout had started to shiver, and she shuffled on her feet, trying to keep warm.
Woodsmoke immediately threw his jacket around her, and Arthur came to a decision.
“This can stay with me overnight, and I’ll double the guard on the armoury.” He picked up Excalibur as well. Woodsmoke grabbed his bow and arrow and hunting knife, and Brenna reached for her sword.
Arthur tried to reassure them all as they walked up to bed. “The castle is full of the finest warriors. I think whoever came here is just looking. He won’t be fool enough to attack. You should all go and sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day.”
