"I understand the rest," Charles said, running his fingers over the wood that protected the old sword. "But how did you bribe Dana into breaking her word?"
He looked up and watched Arthur go very still. The British wolf... altered subtly. Lost the aura of grief almost entirely.
"The same way I got the vampires to do my bidding. Offered her something she wanted." Arthur smiled. "Even that wouldn't have worked if you hadn't ticked her off."
"How did I do that?" As soon as Charles asked the question, he remembered Dana's extreme reaction to the painting his father had sent her. It was lost, that place that had once been hers, and his father meant to gift her with a remembrance-but maybe she'd thought it was a taunt, instead.
Arthur threw up his hands theatrically. "How should I know? Fae are easily offended. As for what I offered her-" He motioned to the sword case.
"That is not Excalibur," Charles said. "When she discovers you don't have it, she'll be... offended."
Arthur ran his fingers gently over the display case-and slid open a dark chunk of wood on the end. "There is something to be said about hiding things in plain sight."
The sword he removed from the hidden compartment wasn't the one that had been on display-though it looked very like. Both were swordsmen's weapons rather than movie props. As soon as this once-hidden sword left the case, the hair on the back of Charles's neck came to attention.
Excalibur or not, there was no denying that the sword in Arthur's hand was a fae blade: he could feel its magic on his skin, could smell it.
Arthur was a swordsman, Charles knew. He'd studied fencing and had received the same sort of martial training that Charles himself had. Arthur's balance was right and his grip-neither too tight nor too loose-showed all that training had not been wasted.
He hadn't been worried about a sword, but that sword... Charles was a dead man, most likely. But Angus would be coming with help. Enough help that even with the sword, Anna should be safe. All he had to do was delay as long as possible. And Arthur always had loved to perform.
"Anna won't go with you," he told Arthur. "She won't stand by your side. She'll wait until you take your attention off her for a moment, then she'll gut you."
Arthur smiled. "You really don't believe in reincarnation, do you? Or fate. I came here to kill Chastel and your father. Chastel I had an answer for. For your father, I needed more."
"Why my father?"
Arthur looked at him as though he was stupid. "Because I am he, of course. King Arthur. It is my destiny to be the high king."
Madness indeed, thought Charles
"But my father didn't come."
"No," agreed Arthur. "Fate is an odd thing. Do you know just who Dana is?"
"Obviously you are going to tell me," said Charles dryly.
"I wonder if your father does. This is what I mean by fate-that I who was Arthur would find Nimue, the Lady of the Lake, here. I knew a couple of decades ago that she was here in Seattle -the first time I saw her, in fact. I knew that there would come a time that it was important-so I bought Sunny this house."
Obviously, Charles thought, it wasn't going to be hard to keep Arthur monologuing.
Arthur's smile turned sly. "I didn't find Excalibur in an archaeological dig-though that's what I was doing at the time. At Cambridge I made friends with a boy whose family was old Cornish gentry. He invited me home for Christmas. I discovered that they'd been guarding a treasure for so many generations that they'd forgotten all about it. It took me to find it again. It was hidden under the flagstone in the carriage house. A sword in the stone-so to speak." He laughed at his own cleverness.
"The boy's older sister looked enough like Dana to be her twin." With his free hand, he rubbed his thumb over his first two fingers. "A little research, and insight becomes knowledge. So I knew when I saw Dana I had the perfect thing to bribe her with." He swung the sword gently. "She had no idea it wasn't resting beneath the stone where she'd placed it until I showed it to her-a photograph. I am not stupid."
"I could disagree with you on that," Charles said. "You've done a number of stupid things that I can pick out. But trying to get the best of a Gray Lord is the stupidest by far. You never had any intention of giving her the sword."
Arthur bobbed his head-a polite agreement. "The first deal would have been honest. Excalibur isn't the only thing I discovered there. I had other weapons, you know. I offered her the dagger. She refused-and made it clear she would hunt me 'to the ends of the earth,' I believe. I know her, you see, but she doesn't know me. Doesn't believe I am Arthur."
Charles knew which Arthur he was talking about.
"But my father didn't come."
"No, you did. And you brought her with you."
"Her?"
"Gwenevere. My white lady."
And then Arthur proved that he wasn't as stupid as Charles had started to believe. Because without telegraphing his move by so much as a breath, while Charles was still absorbing the idea that Arthur wanted Anna because he thought she was his, Arthur struck.
The sword in his stomach didn't hurt, just robbed Charles of his strength. Of his ability to move.
He heard Anna cry out, but his attention was on the icy cold that was sucking him down.
As his legs collapsed, Arthur followed him down. "A swift fight," Arthur said, "is the best kind of fight. I know you. When your father didn't come, I was so disappointed. But when I saw her... saw my Gwenevere, I knew." He grimaced. "She was mine, and you had her, just like before. I could have killed you cleanly, you know. But I want you to suffer. Lancelot."