Richard Day's picture

    Arthur of the Roundish Table (Ch-XVII)

    THE DEATH OF LAGAMOR, A MYSTERY IN PARTS

    Snerf was walking his rounds again with Macaca, his trusty monkey.  

    I wish I was back with the peasantry. I so dislike the aristocracy.

    The peasants are revolting, the peasants are revolting.

    I am so sick of this attitude. We all walk on our hind legs, the way I taught you Macaca. And we put on our leggings, one leg at a time.  We all need food and sustenance.  We say our prayers and contribute to our local chapels. But, Royal Blood. Royal Blood. That is all I ever hear.

    Do you know that Arthur himself was known as Dux Belloram in the books and that that is Latin for War Lord.  We hear all about Uther, but who was his daddy and what proof except a silly characature proves that Uther was even Arthur's father?

    Royal Blood. Hah. We were all once in caves and the man who happened to be best at throwing his own excrement, was made clan leader.

    If that is royal blood, I would rather be of good solid peasant stock. Hah!!!!

    Macaca began screaming and crying much to the surprise of Snerf. What is the matter Macaca?

    Just as he turned the corner to the ante anteroom, he noticed the door was open, and there, lying on the guest bed was Sir Lagamor.  No one else was around.  He went directly to the body and lo, it was lifeless, but not entirely cold.  Macaca kept crying and ran to the corpse jumping up and down.

    He had remembered how to check a deer for rigamortis and he did the same for Lagamor. Lagamor was not much respected around here, not very good at lists and certainly not the cleverest of knights.  But his mother was rumored to be a peasant and he always went to a small village some fifty mile away to say his prayers every twelfth of February.  No one really knew why but it was suspected that it was the date of mummy's death.

    And Lagamor used to tip the help around here.  A couple pence, but he always asked the help how their family was, if the wife was still up for a good roll in the  hay and he always had a smile. Lagamor had also been extremely fond of the monkey and always gave him a treat from his pocket as he gave Snerf a wink.

    But here Sir Lagamor was, only days after the trial of Kay, lifeless.  Snerf crossed himself and knelt to say a quick prayer before taking his leave and jogging down to Bedivere's quarters.

    Sir Bedivere, something has happened, a good knight is dead.  A good knight is dead.

    Bedivere was in his knight shirt, (kind of a cross between a knight's shirt and a night shirt, but that too is another story) but ran with Snerf to the ante anteroom.

    Bedivere and Snerf had become friends of a sort. Since Kay had been put in the dungeon, Bedivere had used Snerf as an acting seneschel. Snerf could never really ever be made chief procurement officer but he was the only one who knew how the kitchen was run.  And the meals had actually been better and the costs had come down during the peasant's tenure.  Together they had cut pilfering down and peasants had been let in as temps to take care of cleaning problems and given food and a few pence for their service.
        
    The two hurried into the room with the monkey in the lead.  Bedivere went to the body and felt Lagamor's neck for any sign of life. He had learned this tactic while making love to his bride.  Lady Shield would always collapse in his arms during intercourse and he had learned to check her neck to make sure it was just her normal climax into unconsciousness.

    Wait here Snerf and do not let anyone in.  And do keep that monkey quiet!!!!

    Bedivere knew what he had to do.  He went to the knights' quarters and awoke Sir Rathbone of the Sherlocks. 

    Sir Rathbone, we need your help.  There has been a murder, at least a death, and we need someone who has experience in investigating these matters.

    What! What!  Where did this dasterdly deed occur.

    In the ante anteroom, Sir Rathbone.

    Wait one minute.  Rathbone quickly put on his leggings and awoke his assistant, Watson.
    Watson, quick, the game is afoot!!!

    What! What! What!  I am on the ready as always Sir Rathbone!

    The three of them proceeded to the ante anteroom.  Five or more years ago, Bedivere had been visiting Joyous Gard and there had been someone slain there by the lists prior to a tournament.

    Rathbone had been in charge of the investigation of the dead body lying in the arena in the middle of the night. At first someone had thought the knight had died of natural causes.

    Rathbone had discovered a pin prick in the back of the neck of the corpse and Thomasina, a student of Merlin's had identified the substance that had caused the death.  Rathbone had discovered a love triangle and eventually the squire who had been the secret lover of the dead knight was arrested and turned over to the Pope's guard.

    As they arrived at this scene, Rathbone walked all around the room, looking at the body from many different perspectives.

    Bedivere in a quiet voice introduced Snerf and Watson and Rathbone.  Whose is that? Rathbone asked while pointing to the monkey.

    That is Macaca, my pet monkey.

    Did he know the decedent?

    Yes sir. Sir Lagamor was very good to my monkey-no pun or double entendre intended.

    Bedivere, how long had Sir Lagamor been at Camelot this time?

    He had been here since All Soul's Day. The King liked him and was thinking of making him Chief Knight of the Guard.

    Hmmmmmmh.  Rathbone liked that word.  It was a palindrome but it was pronounced differently.

    The body has been moved!!!

    How do you arrive at that conclusion? asked Bedivere.

    Elementary my dear Bedivere.  (If you notice, Rathbone really liked last names.  As a matter of fact, his chief servant Watson did not even have a first name) Look at the back of his heels, where Achilles had been killed by Paris' arrow.  See the dirt and grime.  Now look at the floor from the other door over there -pointing to the door separating the ante anteroom from the anteroom-there is a line made in the dirt.  Doe not anyone vacuum around here?

    Snerf turned to Macaca and asked, what does vacuum mean? Macaca shrugged.

    Rathbone looked up and looked down, Rathbone looked to the right and to the left, and finally Rathbone looked above and under.  He reached under the bed and found a rubber-like mallet.
    Hmmmmmmmmh. What pray tell is this?

    Oooooooh, said Bedivere.  Snerf looked at his monkey and then Macaca and then said:

    That is a sex toy.

    How would you know about sex toys? Asked Rathbone.

    I was stuck working in a harem run by the Angles in the Southeast in the old days.  These barbarians had very strange rites and behaviors.  You would take this mallet from the skinny side and you would.......

    Stop, stop, that is enough said Bedivere.

    I get the general idea.  Rathbone moved toward the other inner door and opened it.  The line of dirt continued into that room and there was a puddle of blood next to the master bed in the anteroom.  Aha, the game's afoot.

    What exactly does that mean Watson?

    Oh nothing really, he just gets this big kick out of talking that way.

    No, no no.  Look Bedivere, a foot print.  A large foot print.  Whoever created this footprint pulled the corpse into the other room from here.  And look, there. 
    Rathbone bent over and picked up a feather about a yard from the puddle of blood.  This came from a boa.

    What would a huge tropical snake be doing here and I had no idea they had feathers.

    No Snerf, a boa also refers to a large scarflike piece of clothing made of feathers.

    Bedivere scowled.  Oh no.

    Aha, Bedivere. You will not hold out on me will you?  Or would you rather not have a solution to this mystery?


    Sir Matthews won at the lists on the Great Feast of the Epiphany when he had chosen to fall off of his ass.  The Lady Avon, sister of Lagamor, awarded Sir Matthews with a great long scarf made of feathers!!!

    Hmmmmmmmh.  Let us look again at the corpse.  They all returned to the ante anteroom and Rathbone turned the body over.  This was where the fatal wound was incurred by Lagamor.

    Sure enough, it had to have been a large cleaver.  That wound does not look like it was caused by a sword.
    Said Snerf.

    My dear Snerf, I think you have a point there, no pun intended.  The would looked more like a hack instead of the normal impalement by sword. But I have other thoughts. Tell me Belvidere, are there any Moors about?

    Just Sir Palidan, but he has been to Cornwall for sometime and should return anon.

    Gone for sometime, you say.  Does he have a storage place here?  Do knights keep their things in special storage compartments?

    You must take me to this storage place.  And Snerf, if it ok with Bevidere, I would like you to roll this body in sheets and get it to someplace cool.  You do have an ice ditch do you not?

    Yes sir we have refrigeration and I will get three strong peasant stock to help me move the body.

    Rathbone and Watson followed Bedivere to the storage areas.

    The three came to a great room with chests all around.  Bedivere pointed out a great ebony chest some six feet high and six feet long and six feet wide. There appeared a great depiction of a black swan on its front.

    Rathbone opened the chest.  Bedivere, is there anything missing from here?

    Bedivere took a quick look and surmised that an extra sword was missing.

    The Moor's sword is curved, is it not Bedivere?

    Well, yes, but why does.....

    Because my dear Bedivere, the wound on poor Lagamor could have been made by a curved sword and I believe that if we find the sword, we will find the murderer and we know the murderer is not the Moor Palidan.

    Great reasoning Rathbone.

    Elementary!!!

    Watson, I must clean up.  Bid my adieu and come to our quarters and pour me some of that fine scotch and fix me a pipe. 
    Rathbone exits with aplomb!!!

    Sir Bedivere, who would have had access to this space?  Asked Watson.

    Oh, any knight.  We are all on the honor system here.

    Oh is not that great?

    All right, can we meet again tomorrow morning?

    Yes, but before you go, what is a pipe?

    Oh, trust me on this Sir Bedivere. You really do not wish to know.

    Meanwhile, a mysterious stranger lurks in the shadows down the long hall listening carefully to the goings on.

     

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