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calculable. I wish I could be more helpful to you. I am not really much of a teacher, am I?"
       "You do your best, sir."
       "Thank you. But there are times when I think that any­ one's best can never be good enough."
       Clearly bewildered, the boy left.
       Merlin watched him go. The boy had started to ask whether Guenevere had other agents at Camelot, then caught himself. He had defected from Guenevere and Lan­ celot. But was his defection real? He would have to be watched.

    Merlin, as Arthur's chief minister, was de facto in charge of diplomacy. Not that that was much of a job. England's status as an island, and its relative isolation from the rest of Europe, meant that diplomacy had never been much more than a cottage industry there. Arthur had posted a few am­ bassadors here and there, but most of the important Euro­ pean courts had rebuffed his overtures.
       Guenevere's birthday celebration was changing that, and changing it rapidly. Diplomatic correspondence arrived at Camelot almost daily. And most of it had to do with the birthday observance; one court after another accepted Ar­ thur's invitation. And they had sense enough to advise the court of England quite specifically how many would be in their representatives' parties and what they would require. "They do not seem to trust us to know how to treat them," Merlin complained to Nimue.
       Those communiqués began arriving in early summer, and they came in a steady stream. Nimue, as "Colin," took charge of all the diplomatic communication; she sorted it, filed it, drafted routine replies for Arthur's signature and brought the important matters to Merlin's or Arthur's atten­ tion. Aside from policy concerns, there were practical mat­ ters to take care of—lodging for emissaries, and so on. She happily took charge of that, also.
       One afternoon in early July she approached Merlin, who, uncharacteristically, was relaxing. No books, no lenses, no phosphorus, no medicines. "Merlin, I'm begin­ ning to feel out of my depth."
       "You have taken on a great many duties. Teaching the squires, managing the foreign ministry—such as it is. I should have been more attentive."
       "It appears we will have emissaries from at least fifteen European courts, possibly more. Even the king of Armenia, wherever that is, is sending someone. I'm not certain Corfe Castle can accommodate them all, not in proper fashion. I have the sense that their egos can be sensitive. One after another demands to be lodged either next to the Byzantines or as far away from them as possible. They can't all be made happy."
       "Do your best and try not to worry. Diplomats can be so undiplomatic. If I am correct, this is only the first evidence of their various rivalries and intrigues. Still, if we are to make the impression Arthur wants, we must arrange this event properly. When will the first of them arrive?"
       "The first week in November. Most of them should be arriving in quick succession."
       "We can't simply assign them quarters on a first-come, first-served basis. The more important ambassadors will have to be assigned the most impressive rooms."
       "If memory serves, Corfe Castle doesn't have that many good rooms. Except for the Great Hall and the refectory, most of the rooms don't even have doors, just curtains hanging at the threshold. You recall? Three of the eight 'arms' are in poor repair. We should have thought twice before we went ahead with an event like this in a place like that."
       "You are right. I'll talk to Arthur. We can send as many workmen as we need to renovate. There will not be time to fix up the entire castle, but we can always close off the wings that have not been fixed. We can claim it is a security matter or some such. Why don't you make a quick trip to Corfe and see what needs to be done? We should be able to make at least one of those three arms livable."
       "I'll leave first thing in the