Free Death at King Arthur's Court by Richard; Forrest Page A

tax.’
    â€˜I don’t screw people over,’ Clay retorted.
    â€˜I don’t need this!’ Morgan said. ‘Good night.’ He strode off the patio toward his RV.
    â€˜Wait a minute!’ Clay yelled after him. ‘We haven’t settled anything.’
    Morgan ignored the comment as he violently punched numbers into the door’s lock combination.
    â€˜Stop him,’ Rina said in a husky voice.
    Skee jumped off the patio steps and sprinted down the drive. He reached the RV at the moment the door swung open and Morgan stepped inside. The bodybuilder caught the edge of the door before it slammed shut. He jerked the other man into the doorway. ‘Rina wants you, Daddio.’
    Morgan shoved Skee’s hand off his shoulder and reached back inside the van to produce a long broadsword. He raised the weapon over his head with both hands. ‘You move. You even breathe,’ he said, ‘and I will separate that notochord you call a brain from your long neck.’
    â€˜I wouldn’t make book that he won’t,’ Clay said to Rina. ‘You had better call Muscles off.’
    â€˜Leave him alone,’ Rina commanded.
    Skee Chickering backed away from the glinting sword. When he was out of its thrusting reach he turned and walked nonchalantly back to the patio. Morgan continued standing in front of the RV door with the sword until Skee sat at a patio table. He slowly lowered the weapon and stepped back inside the van and slammed the door.
    â€˜Does he always wave that thing around?’ Skee asked no one in particular.
    â€˜He has two,’ Garth said. ‘He used to keep them both in his office, where they hung on the wall. They’re props for a course he teaches in Arthurian legends.’
    â€˜Old English legends, like in Spenser’s Faerie Queen ,’ Ernest said pointedly to Garth.
    â€˜Who says that’s Arthurian?’ Garth retorted.
    The clank of heavy metal shutters caused them to turn toward the van. The final metal plate closed off the last window, and only a rim of gold light could be seen around the window borders.
    After they finished eating, Lyon arranged a rare steak on a hot platter, surrounded by thick fries, salad and garlic bread. He carried the portion waiter-style at shoulder height down the drive to Morgan’s RV. He knocked on the heavy metal door three times before a muffled growl issued from the interior.
    â€˜Who the hell is it?’
    â€˜Wentworth, Morgan. I brought you a steak with fixings.’
    â€˜Give it to Rina’s animal. His appetite for red meat is undoubtedly immense. No prepared meals, Wentworth. I am surrounded by my enemies and contamination of my food would not be beyond their addled senses. When I am hungry I shall prepare my own meal from unopened containers untouched by human hands.’
    â€˜Suit yourself,’ Lyon said. The man’s paranoia was reaching a critical stage. He returned to the patio and handed the warm steak to Skee. Morgan was right. Without acknowledging the appearance of the additional food, the bodybuilder immediately dedicated himself to its consumption.
    Ernest assumed a heroic pose by the parapet. ‘I would very much like to have Morgan on safari with me. Accidents can be readily arranged in the bush.’
    â€˜In the service we called it fragging,’ Garth said. ‘Why don’t we separate his head from the rest of him with that broadsword he’s so enamored with?’
    â€˜Certainly not!’ Ernest snapped. ‘That hunk of iron is awkward and devoid of grace. If there’s any Morgan-sticking to be done, I would only consider a matador’s sword.’
    â€˜The estoque,’ Lyon said as he stacked plates.
    â€˜Yes, of course,’ Ernest admitted. ‘Educated cojones,’ he said admiringly of Lyon as he searched for his car keys. Still cloaked by their mutual anger at Morgan, both teachers returned to their cars. They only