robert Charrette - Arthur 02 - A King Beneath the Mountain by Robert N. Charrette Page A
Authors: Robert N. Charrette
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little for the kitschy little faux-medieval hamlet the billionaire had built. They had the finds, the site plans, the dating data, and the maps—what interest did they have for a billionaire's fantasy village?
Chardonneville's history was an entertaining story, a fine tale of the eccentricities of the rich.
It was also a lie.
Chardonneville might look like an ordinary village, but, as had been planned from the beginning, every person who lived there was part of the European Community Secret Service or of an ECSS agent's family. The sleepy-looking village was a cover for the underground complex that was the European headquarters of Department M, a clandestine operation dedicated to unraveling and controlling the mysteries of magic and the ancient heroes whose awakening seemed to herald a new age.
Elizabeth Spae worked for Department M; a situation that she was considering changing, and not for the first time.
The lights were harsh and hurt her eyes. She knew that her discomfort was intended because she had complained after each of the previous sessions. The lights, the sort used in prisoner interrogations, remained, glaring and unpleasant. Though she was no prisoner, this certainly was an interrogation, the third in as many weeks since she and Holger Kun had returned to Chardonneville.
Spae didn't like being interrogated. She didn't like the glare of the lights, or their baking heat. She didn't like the harsh echoes from the room's hard walls, or the cold floor underfoot. She didn't like not being able to see her questioners, hiding behind the wall of dazzle.
She knew that all of Magnus's team was assembled in the shadows behind those lights; she'd seen them before they switched on the blinding lamps. Reinholt Gere, Doctor Essen-bach, L'Hereaux, the insufferable Dagastino, and Magnus himself. Because he was present, she stayed. Of all of them, only he commanded her respect. But there were limits, and she wasn't sure her sufferance would last much longer. Still, she listened when Magnus interrupted his colleagues' questions and spoke to her for the first time.
"Dr. Spae, your continued insistence that the American sleeper is King Arthur puts the Department in a very difficult position."
Sitting in the glare and heat, Elizabeth Spae wasn't impressed by the Department's difficult position. How difficult was it to accept reality and admit that they had been wrong about Arthur? The Department was supposed to find sleepers and help them adjust to the twenty-first century, not pretend they weren't who they were because it was embarrassing to admit to a mistake. "I said all I had to say in my report. And his name is Artos, by the way."
"What he calls himself is not really important. Is he or is he not the man known to legend as King Arthur?"
"I believe he is."
"We do not deal in beliefs," Dagastino said. "We deal in facts. Your beliefs are not admissible. We need proof."
"If only you could offer us some solid evidence." Spae could almost see the concerned look on Essenbach's face. Es-senbach was a mage, and a decent one; of all them, she should understand the best. The others only observed the magic rising in the world; she, like Spae, could feel it. Spae had difficulty understanding how Essenbach could go along with this outrageous and pointless questioning when there was important work to be done harnessing the magic. Wasn't that as much a part of the Department's mandate as the searching out of sleepers?
"You know our resources are stretched, Doctor." Gere spoke with a deliberate slowness that put Spae in mind of one of her college professors. That professor had been overly fond
of lecturing, too. "We can't afford to chase phantoms. If this sleeper is Arthur, we need him."
"We need all the sleepers," L'Hereaux said. His brusque voice came from her left; he'd moved since he'd last spoken. "If this man is Arthur, the Department must have him in its corner."
Spae didn't like the security man much. She didn't trust his
Chardonneville's history was an entertaining story, a fine tale of the eccentricities of the rich.
It was also a lie.
Chardonneville might look like an ordinary village, but, as had been planned from the beginning, every person who lived there was part of the European Community Secret Service or of an ECSS agent's family. The sleepy-looking village was a cover for the underground complex that was the European headquarters of Department M, a clandestine operation dedicated to unraveling and controlling the mysteries of magic and the ancient heroes whose awakening seemed to herald a new age.
Elizabeth Spae worked for Department M; a situation that she was considering changing, and not for the first time.
The lights were harsh and hurt her eyes. She knew that her discomfort was intended because she had complained after each of the previous sessions. The lights, the sort used in prisoner interrogations, remained, glaring and unpleasant. Though she was no prisoner, this certainly was an interrogation, the third in as many weeks since she and Holger Kun had returned to Chardonneville.
Spae didn't like being interrogated. She didn't like the glare of the lights, or their baking heat. She didn't like the harsh echoes from the room's hard walls, or the cold floor underfoot. She didn't like not being able to see her questioners, hiding behind the wall of dazzle.
She knew that all of Magnus's team was assembled in the shadows behind those lights; she'd seen them before they switched on the blinding lamps. Reinholt Gere, Doctor Essen-bach, L'Hereaux, the insufferable Dagastino, and Magnus himself. Because he was present, she stayed. Of all of them, only he commanded her respect. But there were limits, and she wasn't sure her sufferance would last much longer. Still, she listened when Magnus interrupted his colleagues' questions and spoke to her for the first time.
"Dr. Spae, your continued insistence that the American sleeper is King Arthur puts the Department in a very difficult position."
Sitting in the glare and heat, Elizabeth Spae wasn't impressed by the Department's difficult position. How difficult was it to accept reality and admit that they had been wrong about Arthur? The Department was supposed to find sleepers and help them adjust to the twenty-first century, not pretend they weren't who they were because it was embarrassing to admit to a mistake. "I said all I had to say in my report. And his name is Artos, by the way."
"What he calls himself is not really important. Is he or is he not the man known to legend as King Arthur?"
"I believe he is."
"We do not deal in beliefs," Dagastino said. "We deal in facts. Your beliefs are not admissible. We need proof."
"If only you could offer us some solid evidence." Spae could almost see the concerned look on Essenbach's face. Es-senbach was a mage, and a decent one; of all them, she should understand the best. The others only observed the magic rising in the world; she, like Spae, could feel it. Spae had difficulty understanding how Essenbach could go along with this outrageous and pointless questioning when there was important work to be done harnessing the magic. Wasn't that as much a part of the Department's mandate as the searching out of sleepers?
"You know our resources are stretched, Doctor." Gere spoke with a deliberate slowness that put Spae in mind of one of her college professors. That professor had been overly fond
of lecturing, too. "We can't afford to chase phantoms. If this sleeper is Arthur, we need him."
"We need all the sleepers," L'Hereaux said. His brusque voice came from her left; he'd moved since he'd last spoken. "If this man is Arthur, the Department must have him in its corner."
Spae didn't like the security man much. She didn't trust his
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