Pendragon's Folly, Chapter 1
What have I been doing for the last age or two? I've been wrestling with this story, which is now, finally, all at second (third, fourth) draft stage and if I don't post it, sparrow2000 has promised she will do something. And I don't want that, because she has an imagination.
I am off work today, but I am away tomorrow, so I'll be posting future chapters on Saturdays.
Title: Pendragon's Folly
Pairing: M/A, eventually.
Characters: in this chapter - Merlin, Gaius, Gwen, Leon, Gwaine
Rating: PG maybe even U
Chapter Word Count: 7,250
Warnings: No sex
Summary: There's an out of work wizard, a museum, a sizeable donation that turns it into a building site, suspicious happenings and magic. A sort of 'take your fandom to work' story.
Author's note 1: When it comes to romance, this story is the definition of 'slow burn'.
Author's note 2: More thanks than I can say to my beta, plot wrangler and best friend, sparrow2000.
Comments are always greatly appreciated, loved and cherished.
Disclaimer: I write fan fic. All the characters from the Merlin series are the property of the BBC and Shine, etc. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this writing.
Pendragon's Folly
Chapter 1
Merlin dug in his pocket for the key his mother had given him, but he hesitated to use it. Instead, he hitched his pack on his shoulder, raised his hand to the bell and pushed the button. From inside he heard the faint electronic chime of Big Ben preparing to strike the hour.
After a while, just as he was beginning to wonder if his uncle was out and whether he should use the key after all, the faint sound of shuffling footsteps was followed by the rattle of the latch. The door swung open and his uncle gazed at him blankly for a second, before his face broke into a welcoming smile. "Merlin, my boy. Come in, come in," he exclaimed, stepping back into the darkness of the narrow hallway.
Merlin followed and after an awkward hug Gaius turned to lead the way past the front room, to the living room at the back of the house, saying over his shoulder, "I've just put the kettle on. I wasn't expecting you until Sunday."
"It is Sunday, Uncle Gaius."
"Yes, yes. I know. Well, what a wonderful surprise."
Once he was in the living room he turned. "Leave your pack by the coat rack and take a seat. I won't be a moment," he said, before going through to the tiny kitchen beyond.
Merlin shrugged himself free of his rucksack, swinging it down and laying it on the bottom three steps of the steep staircase that climbed the width of the house, to prevent it from entirely blocking the passageway.
The living room was smaller than he remembered. A square dining table that would seat four if it were pulled away from the wall occupied most of the alcove under the stairs. But the room was dominated by an easy chair set facing the cast iron fireplace, where a pile of coal smouldered sluggishly. There was no television set, although there was a very nice, old fashioned hi-fi system on top of the dark Victorian sideboard against the wall opposite the fire.
From the kitchen, Gaius called, "How long has it been since I've seen you?"
"Four years," Merlin replied. "You came for Christmas."
Gaius reappeared with a teapot cradled in both hands. "Yes, I suppose it must be." He shuffled over to put it down on the table. As he turned to go back to the kitchen, he shot Merlin a sly grin. "Although if I remember rightly, I didn't see much of you then. You were always off with your friend, Will. I think your mother was lucky you stayed in on Christmas Day."
Shamefaced, Merlin shrugged. He didn't remember, but it seemed likely. "Sorry?" he said.
Gaius reappeared with two mugs, a sugar bowl and a plastic milk bottle on a tray. "You were young," he said, putting the tray down next to the teapot. He collapsed into one of the two accessible dining chairs. "Sit down, sit down. How is Will? He was a bright lad, as I remember."
Bending his head under the slope of the ceiling under the stairs, Merlin took the second chair. "He's in London now. A journalist at the Daily News. On his way to being their top reporter, according to him."
Gaius picked up the teapot. "And you?" he asked as he began to pour. "Your mother said you got a job at Mercia Chemicals, straight out of York?"
Merlin grimaced ruefully. "I did."
"Hmm. What happened?"
"Umm…" Gaius's right eyebrow rose and Merlin sighed. "They were trying to find a way to synthesise..." He paused. "Well, it's still in development, so I probably shouldn't say. And, um, it sort of worked, but only when I was there." Off Gaius's look he sat back as far as he could without cracking his head and held up his hands defensively. "Honestly, I didn't know. I thought it was supposed to be like that. It was only when Dr Franc took me aside and started asking what I was doing that I twigged."
Gaius poured milk into his mug. "I have a book that might be of use to you," he said. "I picked it up last year and was going to send it to you for your birthday. A collection of spells and remedies." He added a teaspoon of sugar and gave it a stir. I can see what they're supposed to do, but I can't tell if they'll work." He frowned across at Merlin. "You have this talent, but you've never, as far as I know, attempted to train or harness it. Your mum talked a lot, that Christmas." Taking a sip of tea, he sighed. "I'll dig it out before supper," he said and put his mug down. "So after the incident in the lab, what happened? You left Mercia Chemicals?"
"It seemed best."
"Quite right, my boy."
"But now I'm unemployed and I don't think they'll give me a good reference."
"Hmm... Well, there are still jobs in Camelot, I suppose. But we can't have you idle." A slow smile curved Gaius's mouth. "I'll tell you what," he said. "You can come into the museum with me in the meantime. Just until you find something else. There's always plenty to do and another pair of young hands will be useful."
Merlin narrowed his eyes. "I thought the museum was closed for the redevelopment."
Gaius shrugged. "Yes, well, I suppose it is. Mostly. It's all a huge disturbance. But that doesn't mean the mundane work stops. The collections still have to be cared for in storage. We had to move them out so fast, it's a wonder some of them survived the upheaval."
***
It was just after 8:30 the next morning when Gaius and Merlin walked up the wide front path of The Pendragon Memorial Museum, known locally as Pendragon’s Folly. It occupied a prominent position on the corner of Market Street and Front Street and, even to the uninitiated, it was obvious that it had originally been intended as a railway station.
From Market Street, only the end wall of the original engine shed with its wide arched roof was visible. An area of different brick marked where the access for the tracks should have been and now played host to four large advertisement hoardings.
The entrance was in Front Street. Tacked onto the side of the engine shed, the imposing doors were shaded under a portico that jutted out from a building of mellow pink brick and richly carved stone work in the Victorian Gothic style. A shallow flight of seven steps half obscured by a wooden wheelchair ramp led up to the double doors. A number of the windows were blacked out and another large hording covered at least three of them on the first floor, proclaiming, 'Greenswood Building Contractors'. Next to that, a smaller one read, 'DuLac & Lott, Architects and Designers'.
"Most of this part of the building was supposed to be the Station Hotel," Gaius explained. "But that never happened, either."
He led the way up the path, turning right in front of the steps and around to a smaller entrance. From a large key ring he extracted from his pocket he used three separate keys to unlock the door, which he pushed open. Inside, he paused. "Huh, alarm's off," he said. "Gwen must have got in early."
While Gaius was relocking the door, Merlin looked around. They were standing in a large square room with mahogany and glass display cases ranged around all the walls and a glass topped display table in the middle. The upper walls were painted in eggshell blue and there was a large damp patch in one corner where a length of the fancy plaster cornicing that circled the rest of the room at the junction of wall and ceiling was missing. A varnished oak door in the opposite corner occupied the only other clear wall space.
"I remember this," he said.
"It was supposed to be the ticket office," Gaius explained. He walked across the room and opened the door, kicking a wooden wedge into place to hold it open. "And through here is the main entrance foyer for both the station and the hotel."
From the Ticket office doorway, two large arches blocked by plywood panels filled the wall immediately on their right. One had a display case parked in front of it. The other had a small, plain door inset into the plywood. "The Great Hall's through there," Gaius said.
Directly across the marble floor was the bottom of a sweeping staircase that took a few steps then turned and climbed up the opposite wall. It was guarded by a heavy marble balustrade supported on solid, turned marble uprights which continued when the staircase became a balcony running across the room above the inner glass doors of the main entrance. "And," he pointed at another door under the stairs, "that's the Ladies' Waiting Room. The Great Hall's been cleared. I'll show you around later. The office is up here. Come on." He crossed to the staircase and unhooked a silk rope that prevented access, laying it over the banister. "Time for tea first."
At the top of the stairs he paused next to a closed door. "There's a whole warren of rooms on both sides that we've never used," he said. "Most of them are damp. The dry ones on this side are the official stores." He turned and led the way along the wide balcony and paused in front of a pair of large double doors. "Since we cleared the Great Hall, we put some of the rooms over there to use," he said, pointing at a door facing them at the end of the balcony. "But this is my workroom."
They entered a large room that spanned the entire width of the foyer. "It was supposed to be the hotel reception," Gaius explained. "Kettle's over there," he added, pointing at a short kitchen unit against the wall.
Merlin took the hint and went to make tea, filling the kettle from the four litre plastic bottle standing next to it. A large, brown, potbellied teapot and a collection of mugs which, surprisingly, were clean stood waiting with the makings of tea and instant coffee. The kettle was still warm.
"Oh, here," Gaius said. Merlin turned around and Gaius opened his briefcase to extract a plastic bottle of milk.
Taking it with a nod, Merlin set about making tea in a single mug for Gaius and coffee for himself while Gaius went over to the huge desk at the far end of the room. He put his briefcase down and began rifling through a pile of envelopes that were stacked neatly on the corner of the desk.
Merlin took Gaius's tea across and put it down next to him. Gaius nodded his thanks, but he was reading, so Merlin retreated to the chair belonging to the only other desk, under the window, and looked around.
Apart from the two desks, the imposing Victorian monstrosity and the modern office cast-off, a round mahogany table with fours chairs occupied the middle of the floor and an ancient photocopier stood in the corner. Bookshelves lined the walls on either side of the door and behind Gaius's desk. Above them the ornate plaster moulding had been painted over so many times that little detail showed through. He drank his coffee.
The phone rang and Gaius picked it up. "Pendragon Memorial Museum," he said. He listened for a few moments and his shoulders slumped slightly. "Now?" he asked. He listened again. "It can't wait? No. Okay. Yes, I suppose so. Okay, yes, I'll see you soon."
He put the phone down and looked over at Merlin. "I'm sorry," he began, breaking off as the door opened and a young woman came in. She wore jeans and a bright yellow blouse that complemented her dark complexion and highlighted her bright eyes. She was carrying a mug.
Merlin got to his feet and Gaius said, "Ah, Gwen, good morning. The kettle's boiled if you want a cup." He waved a hand in Merlin's direction. "This is my nephew, Merlin. He's going to be helping me with the collections for a few weeks, just until he finds a job." Merlin offered her a little wave and a smile in greeting.
"Thanks, but I've just had one," she said, heading across to the counter and putting her mug down. She nodded at Merlin. "Hi, I'm Gwen."
Gaius hum'd, and said, "I was planning to show him around, but it appears I've been summoned up to the Town Hall for some reason. I wonder if I could impose upon you instead? "
"Is anything wrong?" Merlin asked.
"No, no, I don't think so," Gaius said.
Gwen smiled at Merlin. "Of course," she said. "It would be a pleasure." She went over to the big desk, opened a drawer and took something out, shoving it in her pocket. Coming back to Merlin, she bounced, swinging her arms loosely at her sides while she shifting her weight from the balls of her feet to her toes and back again. "Come with me" she said in an exaggeratedly mysterious voice, "and I will show you all the wonders of Pendragon's Folly."
Merlin laughed. "Thanks," he said. "That'd be great." He looked across at Gaius, who made a shooing motion with his arms, so he followed Gwen out to the balcony where she had paused to look down over the foyer.
"Are you a curator here, too?" Merlin asked, coming to stand beside her.
Gwen shook her head with a laugh. "No, I run the Museum Club," she said.
"Oh wow! Really? I used to be in that. I loved coming here on a Saturday morning, when I was five or six. You run it?"
"Yeah, I have a couple of volunteers who help sometimes, but I'm the only paid member of staff, so I organise it." The warmth with which she spoke was very attractive and she looked up into his face with a ready smile. "If you were a member, you know what it is," she said, but continued without giving him time to say anything. "We try to keep the kids off the streets and out of their parents' hair." She laughed again, a self-deprecating sound. "And hopefully encourage some education into their heads. I do the school visits and things like that, too. And, well everyone who works here, they sort of end up doing anything to help." She glanced sideways at Merlin from under her lashes. "Although there are only two of us now, so…" She shrugged and smiled. Smiling seemed to be her default expression.
"Is that because the museum's closed?"
She blinked. "But it isn't. We still have the use of the Foyer and the Ticket Office and the Ladies' Waiting Room." She looked around. "And a couple of offices. And the store rooms above the LWR. That's where the Museum Club meets. In the Ladies' Waiting Room, I mean, not in the stores. That wouldn't be safe." She paused for breath and her tone changed. "At least we'll meet there for a few more months."
"And then what?"
"Well, then we'll have to close, I suppose. But since that's when my contract's up and the Council have withdrawn funding, I imagine it'll all be on hold until the museum opens properly again."
"Gaius didn't say anything about the Council withdrawing funding," Merlin said. "Why would they do that when they're spending all this money?" He twisted around, indicating the displays below them and the whole building beyond the blocked in arches.
"Oh, no," Gwen explained. "It isn't the Council who're paying for the redevelopment."
Merlin turned to look at her and she nodded. "Okay, look, the redevelopment is funded by a grant from the Pendragon Company. I guess Mr Pendragon thought it would be good to re-establish the family connection. The Council doesn't own the Museum. It's owned and run by a Trust. My salary comes from the Council through a special, educational support grant. But with the spending cuts..." she shrugged. "I knew last year that they wouldn't be renewing it." Merlin wrinkled his brow in sympathy and Gwen shrugged again. "Way of the modern world of work," she said.
Taking a deep breath, she slapped both hands down on the balcony rail. "But we're doing the tour. What do you know about Pendragon's Folly?"
"Not much. Bits and pieces. I assume it was built by a Pendragon?"
"Yeah, well, Pendragon's factory closed down years ago. I don't even think there are any Pendragons left in town." She braced herself against the rail. "Okay, so, the unofficial, official version." Taking on the tone of monotonous cheerfulness employed by tour guides everywhere, she said, "If you would look across to the arches opposite; above the one on the right you will see a bust of the man who built this edifice, Mr Thomas Jonas Pendragon, of Pendragon and Burnt, manufacturers of quality paintbrushes, principal citizen and employer of the market town of Camelot, circa 1850. A man of great vision who was, unfortunately for him, way ahead of his time." Merlin looked at the arch containing the temporary door into the Great Hall and on a plinth above it he could make out a marble bust.
"And that one," Gwen said, pointing at another bust above the other arch, "is Prince Albert. I think Thomas had hopes the Prince Consort would come and open the station. Didn't happen." She glanced slyly up at him from the corner of her eyes. "The Pendragon Memorial Museum opened in 1882 to display the Pendragon collection of vehicles of various sorts to a wondering public. Over the years, other worthy residents of the town added to the collections and by the seventies, the 1970s that is, it had become the charming hodgepodge of random and unconnected memorabilia you see today." She turned on the spot with her arms spread wide from her sides. "Or not," she added, "since most of it's in storage at the moment."
By unspoken agreement, they started walking towards the stairs. "Mr Pendragon had delusions of grandeur," Gwen said. "Before the iron came, as they say, as if it hadn't been there in the hills all the time, Camelot was just a small market town. Pendragon and Burnt made artists' paintbrushes. But Mr Pendragon bought into one of the first mines and made a fortune. He thought the town would become more important than it did, so he invested in a railway station fit for a king. Unfortunately, he was alone in his vision and couldn't raise the political clout to force Lord Bayard, the local landowner, to allow passage of a railway through his land. On top of that, Camelot is probably the only town in England that every other railway company ignored. Even while they were building stations for two cottage hamlets, everywhere else. And since, as you know, we have a perfectly functional and much more modest station behind the Town Hall, when the railway did arrive, it wasn't into Market Street." She scrunched up her nose and smiled up at him. "Which is just as well, since the town grew out in this direction and the railway would have got in the way."
They had reached the turn of the stairs by this time and paused. "In the 1870s the son of the family used part of it as a stable and coach house. That was when the Pendragon family still lived in the town centre. Pendragon House was burnt down during the war." She started down the last few stairs. "Anyway, when the young man was killed in the first Boer War, his distraught parents donated the entire place, with all of its contents, to be a museum and named in his memory." She paused and looked around the foyer with a fond smile. "It's a magical place," she said, "and it really deserves to be done up."
"I'm not sure Uncle Gaius agrees. He seems to dislike the whole business."
She glanced back at him. "But it was your Uncle Gaius who had the idea of applying to Pendragon's for a grant," she said. "It's true that the Board of Trustees are in charge of the project, and they mostly keep Gaius out of it. Or he keeps himself out of it." Her brow furrowed. "I don't think he's even been to the designers' place. That's Dulac and Lott. They have an office on Market Square. One of those tall, thin, brick buildings with the big bay windows." They started walking again. "But he's planning what's going to go into the new galleries. I've heard him on the phone to the Treasurer. He says The Board want to get rid of the entire mediaeval period and make the Museum interactive and relevant." She grinned. "He gets quite heated. I think he'll win, though. He loves this place."
"You agree with him? About the interactive idea?"
"I think there's room for the old stuff and the learning tools. Come on. This way." Pulling a key out of her pocket, she held it up for him to see. "Gaius says we've always had problems with the Great Hall. Half of it was blocked off years ago and rented out. The rent paid for most of the upkeep, but that's been cleared, so apart from the redevelopment grant we only have the original endowment now and that's not worth much."
She unlocked the temporary door and they stepped through.
Once inside Merlin gazed around in awe. "I don't remember it being like this," he said. "It's fantastic!"
"There used to be a false ceiling," Gwen explained. "It was put in in the sixties, because the space is just so big. We had a real rush to get the objects cleared out, then the builders came in and the false ceiling and the wall were down before we knew it." She looked around. "That was six months ago."
From where they were standing, the original intention for the building was even more obvious. Two rows of cast iron pillars supported the arched roof over a wide floor and the centre line of the roof was glazed, filling the space with natural light.
Gwen pointed out a dusty line on the floor. "You can see where the wall was." It cut across the width of the hall and would have reduced it by more than half. "Everything beyond there was rented by the Council, as a furniture and stationery store."
A door in the wall at the far end of the building opened and a man in a hard hat came in. He saw them and waved. Gwen waved back. "Hi, Leon," she called. Turning back to Merlin, she said, "That's Leon Degrance, he's the foreman on site."
Leon walked towards them. "Hello, Gwen," he said, when he was near enough to do so without shouting. "Where's your hard hat?"
"Oops, sorry." She grimaced. "We won't come in. I'm just showing Merlin around. This is Merlin. He's our new volunteer."
Leon reached them, smiled and shook Merlin's hand. "Hello," he said. "Nice to meet you."
"Hi," Merlin said. "This place is amazing. I never realised it was so big."
"It's pretty impressive, isn't it?" Leon agreed. "A lot of work, too. It's been badly neglected." He turned to Gwen. "Have you seen Lance?" he asked. "He and Gwaine were supposed to come down to inspect the most recent work."
"No, I've not seen them."
"Ah well, no doubt he'll find me when he's ready. You, however, really shouldn't be beyond that door without a hard hat and someone from my crew to accompany you. You know that."
"I do, I do. We're going. Honest. You didn't see us. Come on Merlin, let's get out of here before we cause an industrial accident." With an apologetic wave at Leon, she ducked through the door and Merlin followed.
Once back in the foyer, facing the main entrance, the grand marble staircase was to their right and opposite them were the large, glass inner doors that occupied the area under the balcony, with the outer doors visible beyond. The room was full of mismatched display cases. Some were painted in the garish colours of the seventies. Others were varnished oak or mahogany, obviously survivors from the original Victorian galleries.
"So, to the displays," Gwen said, "The foyer didn't used to have much in it. But we moved some display cases out of the Great Hall. Now it's our modern history gallery." She turned slowly on the spot, pointing at cases. "Tudor and Stuart, Georgian and finally Victorian Camelot."
"Nothing after that?"
"No room." She grinned. "We ran out of wall space. The natural history collection, Roman Camelot and some of the mining stuff are in the Ticket Office, where you came in. The High Kings period, the mediaeval excavation on North Road and the Early Modern Collection are in the Ladies Waiting Room. That's Gaius's pride and joy" She shrugged. "Well, you'll know that's his period."
"I didn't know he was still publishing."
"He's written a couple of guides to the collections and I know he has a book he's working on, but last time I asked he said all this had got in the way."
She led him across to the Ladies Waiting Room. "The only thing we moved in here," she said, her hand on the door knob, "were the Egyptian mummies." Once again her mischievous smile broke through. "The mummies were donated by the sister of Sir Frederick Compton-Blythe. He was an ex-colonial civil servant."
She tilted her head back, looked down her nose at Merlin and in a parody of a cut-glass accent explained, "He picked them up cheap from a shady sort of native chap on the banks of the Suez Canal, on his way home from twenty-five years' service to the Raj, don't ya know." Then she relaxed and in her normal voice continued, "Unfortunately, he died a month after getting home. She donated them to the museum, on condition that they remain permanently displayed, so we can't pack them away until the British Museum, or someone, can take them for conservation." She shrugged one shoulder and pushed the door open.
"Gaius used to have them stuck away in a dark corner of the Great Hall," she said pointing at a tall display case containing two vaguely human shaped bundles of rags, "But apart from them, the most valuable objects are here." She led him across the room to another glass topped table, set against the wall. "The pre-Saxon gold collection. It was found in a field near Lilebrook in the thirties." Under the glass, among a collection of pottery shards, glass beads and old coins were three gold arm bands inset with round stones and decorated with slightly tarnished enamel work, a large ring broach and the remains of two swords. The blades were pitted and almost rusted away, but the hilts were still whole. They looked like they were made of gold, too.
"Those are amazing," Merlin said, his voice soft with wonder.
"Aren't they just? There's more in the safe, but that's the cream of the collection. We can't display it all."
"Why not?"
"The insurance costs too much."
They stood in silence for a few minutes, while Merlin gazed at the intricate craftsmanship of the gold work. There was something about them that stirred him deep inside.
Eventually he became aware that Gwen was shifting from foot to foot, so he pulled himself away and turned to look at the rest of the room. A relief map of the local area covered the wall where the windows would be, with labelled dots marking the location of early settlements. Next to that was a stone cross, about four feet tall and carved with knotwork. On the other side of the room, more mahogany cases were crammed full of small domestic items.
"And that's it, really," Gwen said.
With one last look around, Merlin followed her back out into the foyer.
"There was so much more on display when we had the other galleries," she said. "The store rooms are packed. Come on, I'll show you."
When they started to climb the stairs again, Gwen resumed her tour leader role. "This was all supposed to be part of the hotel." They reached the top and she pointed to the door next to them. "The original stores," she said. "We'll come back here after you've seen the rest. Don't want to put you off."
She led him past Gaius's office and through the door at the end. Another door faced them across a wide corridor that stretched a short way to their left, before taking a right turn. "The collections we took off display are down there," she said. "That's where we're going next. This is my workroom. I'm sort of sharing it at the moment. With the architects." She might have been blushing. "I mean, I let them use the spare desk." She pushed open the door and Merlin followed her inside.
It was not a large room. Shelves along two walls were filled by cardboard boxes, plastic storage tubs, box files and a short length of ring binders. There was a desk in front of the window, which Merlin decided was Gwen's since, although it was obviously in use, it was neat and tidy. But what caught and held his eye was the other desk, which was occupied by a harassed looking young man, all long, dark hair and designer stubble.
He was talking on his mobile, but looked up and smiled when he saw them. He mouthed a 'Hello', to Gwen, before returning his attention to his conversation. "Ask Gaius? Do you really think-? Okay, okay, yes. Yes, I'll ask Gaius and I'll ask Gwen. In fact, I'll ask anyone you like." He laughed. "Yes, he's here, too. He's on site with Leon. Yes, I'll see you soon. About ten thirty, I hope. Yes. Okay," before finally adding a more decisive, "Goodbye, Morgana," although there was a fond smile on his face as he said it.
He put the phone down and grinned at them. "The very woman," he said, spreading his arms wide and standing up, as if he was about to come around the desk and embrace Gwen.
She pretended to hide behind Merlin. "You can ask your question in a minute, Gwaine," she said. "First, this is Merlin. He's going to be helping Gaius for a while."
Gwaine's attention switched to Merlin and he did walk around the edge of the desk with his hand out. "Welcome to Pendragon's Folly," he said, shaking Merlin's hand. "Although I shouldn't call it that and I'd get into trouble with Morgana if she heard me. I'm Gwaine, one half of Dulac and Lott, Architects and Interior Designers. It's good to meet you."
"And you," Merlin said, rescuing his hand and stepping back a pace. "You're busy though."
"Busy?" Gwaine asked. He sounded confused by the concept.
"You had a question," Merlin said, "From Morgana. For Gwen."
"Oh. Oh yes." He turned to Gwen. "Gwen, Gwen, most wonderful and beautiful of women…" Gwen frowned at him, but there was laughter her eyes. "Have you seen our latest invoice?" he asked. "Morgana swears she sent it to Gaius last week and she wants to check he got it, because Cedric's denying all knowledge." He looked at Merlin. "I don't know why she insists on posting it, when Lance is here almost every day. It's as if she doesn't trust us."
"She doesn't," Gwen said. "I don't know why she trusts Gaius to deal with it, either."
"She always says he ought to see them before he hands them on."
"Yeah, I know, but he doesn't look at them. And no, I haven't seen it, but I promise I'll check before lunch and make sure it's not sitting in his in-tray. Okay?"
"More than I could hope for," he assured her. He would probably have said more, but his phone rang and he pounced on it. Gwen raised her hand as she backed towards the door and he waved back.
Merlin followed Gwen, taking a deep breath once the door was safely shut with them on the outside. "Is he always-?" he asked.
"Oh yeah," Gwen said. "But it's just his way. He's madly in love with his equally crazy girlfriend."
"Morgana?" Merlin guessed.
"Goodness, no! Elaine. Morgana's the office manager at Dulac and Lott. She keeps them afloat, while Lance and Gwaine do the creative stuff. Come on, I'll show you the new stores first and then the old ones. If you're working for Gaius you'll be spending a lot of time in them."
***
"Did Gwen show you around?" Gaius asked, spooning macaroni cheese onto a plate that evening.
"Yes, she showed me the whole place. The store rooms are pretty full, aren't they? And there're more of them than I expected."
"Yes, well, with the galleries emptied… But we do need to do a proper inventory. All the big objects are off site, but everything else that came off display is in the rooms along the corridor past Gwen's workroom. They're all properly packed away, as you saw. Then there are the rooms above the Ladies Waiting Room and beyond. That corridor extends over the old hotel kitchens and the ballroom, where we used to have our domestic life displays. We can't get into those galleries at the moment. The back stairs are unsafe and the only other entrance is from the Great Hall." He reached across the table and handed Merlin the plate he had filled. "There are things in those stores that probably haven't been looked at since they were donated," he said, spooning pasta onto his own plate. "I'm pretty sure there's a lot of rubbish that we might want to dispose of, if the trustees will agree. I'm hoping that the worst was never accessioned."
"Accessioned?"
Gaius paused in his task and rested the pan on the table. "Formally entered into the collections," he explained, "with a number recorded in the register. If there are things that were never accessioned, we can get rid of them with no red tape." He frowned. "Or we can accession them properly." He started spooning again. "I've put together a disposal policy that I'd hoped to take to The Board for their next meeting."
He tipped the last of the macaroni cheese onto his plate and dumped the pan on the edge of the table out of his way. A bit too close to the edge. Merlin saw it tip and the potential for cheese sauce all over Gaius's carpet.
Then it stopped, frozen at an acute angle. Merlin reached out, took hold of the handle and put the pan back squarely on the table top.
"Does your mother let you do magic at the table?" Gaius asked.
"Um… She doesn't mind, as long as I'm careful not to be seen."
Gaius turned his head and looked towards the window with its net curtains and the faint view beyond of the bedroom windows of one of the big houses on Milton Avenue across the back alley. "Hmm," he said. "Remember that when the light is on in here and it's dark outside, those nets don't stop anyone seeing in. Probably best if you abstain, my boy."
Merlin nodded and Gaius smiled. "But you do seem to have acquired more control than I remember and thank you for saving my carpet," he added.
Merlin smiled back and started to shovelling macaroni into his mouth. "This is good," he mumbled.
"All out of a packet," Gaius admitted. "What did you do with the rest of your day, after Gwen had shown you around? I'm sorry I was called away."
"It's okay. I helped Gwen with a school group and then I went for a walk around town, just to remind myself where everything is. Then I came back here and had a look through the book you gave me. It's pretty amazing."
"Good," Gaius said, looking pleased. "I hoped it might be helpful."
"Where did you find it?"
"An antiquarian book shop in London. I'd heard of it, but it took me a few years to locate a copy."
They both concentrated on eating, but after a while Merlin looked up. "Gwen said it was your idea to apply to Pendragon's for the grant." he said.
"It was. I thought it was a long-shot. I didn't even know if Uther had ever been to the museum. But the leaks in the roof were getting worse and we couldn't cover it. If it hadn't been for that grant... Well, I choose to think of him as our saviour." He caught Merlin's eye and Merlin couldn't tell if the twist of his lips was a smile, or not. "I only asked for a few thousand," he said. "It was Uther who decided that if the job was going to be done, it might as well be done properly. The next thing I knew, The Board were talking about interactive education centres and we had to close the Great Hall." This time the smile was mildly self-mocking. "But thankfully, the Board also decided to bring in Lance and Gwaine to do the hard work. I'm much better with the collections than all that design stuff." He pushed his plate away and sat back in his chair. "Tea?" he asked.
"I'll do it," Merlin said, getting up and collecting the dirty plates.
"It's good to see Uther taking an interest, though," Gaius said. "He's been invited to become a Trustee. That's why I had to go up to the Town Hall. The Chair's called a special meeting, tomorrow evening, and he's coming up for it. She wants me there."
***
After lunch the next day, Gaius began to initiate Merlin into the proper care and recording of museum objects. Pulling a storage box down off a shelf in his office, he placed it on the round table and removed the lid. "These Roman pot shards," he said, carefully lifting out an object and peeling aside the tissue paper it was wrapped in, "were excavated from a single site and donated to the museum shortly after I started working here." The object he finally exposed was an uninspiring, curved lump of pottery. He turned it over to show Merlin a number painted in tiny, neat writing on the underside. "That's an accession number," he said. "Each object has a unique number that is listed in the Accessions Register. We paint them on so they can't get lost."
Rewrapping the pot shard, he put it back in its box and replaced the lid. "Come on," he said. "We'll go through to the new stores and I'll show you how things should be kept when they're not on display. Put this back on the shelf, would you?"
Merlin took the box and placed it back where Gaius had taken it from. As he turned to follow Gaius from the room, he glanced out of the window. A large black car was in the act of pulling up at the curb outside. "Uncle Gaius?" he asked. "Are you expecting a visit from the Queen?"
Gaius came over, just as the chauffeur got out the car and walked around the back to open the passenger door.
Gaius took one look and crossed to the door. "No, but he might be the next best thing to royalty," he said over his shoulder as he left the room.
Curiosity piqued, Merlin followed.
By the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, Gaius not being particularly nimble, three men were standing just inside the glass doors, looking around appraisingly. One was older and was clearly the boss. He was not unusually tall, but he dominated his company. His grey pinstripe suit was in no way drab. It made him look distinguished and stylish at the same time, and he wore it like armour.
The other two were young. They were much of a height, but where one was black, solidly built and bald, the other was slighter and blond.
The older man's eyes swept across the upper walls first before descending to ground level and fixing on Gaius. "Ah, Gaius, my old friend," he said. "There you are."
The other two stood back in respectful attendance.
"Uther," Gaius said, going over to greet their visitor properly. Uther Pendragon met him half way with his hand out and they shook.
Merlin stayed on the turn of the stairs, leaning against the balustrade and curious to see the man who was rescuing the museum.
"It's good to see you again," Uther said flinging his arm around Gaius's shoulders.
Beside him Gaius appeared diminished in both authority and vitality. Just watching Uther from across the room made Merlin, himself, feel gangling and awkward in a way he thought he had outgrown when he left school.
Gaius's voice was quieter, calmer, almost cautious. "And you too, Uther."
"Show me what you've done with my money," Uther said, drawing back and looking around again. "I came up early so I could see the progress."
"There's not much to see, yet," Gaius said. "Your people have stripped the interior and begun the repairs, but we've hardly started on the conceptual plans. It's just a shell."
"Show me anyway. If what my foreman says is right, and I'm sure it is, the restoration work on the fabric will take some time. This entrance is wonderful. The marble, the carved stonework. A wonderful introduction to the building."
"This is the only part that's still open to the public," Gaius explained." We've concentrated our best exhibits here, as you can see. Mostly things with local significance. Let me show you this: it's an original 1825 box of Pendragon paints and artists' brushes." He started to lead the way over to one of the display cases against the wall, but Uther didn't follow.
"Maybe later," Uther said, with a small, dismissive gesture. "First show me the Main Hall and tell me about your project. I've been too busy to follow it as I would have liked." He paused and clapped his hands together, emphasising the punctuation. "But that is a thing of the past. I'm very interested in what you're doing. I haven't seen this place since I was a scrubby schoolboy, but even from the outside I could see it has great potential."
Merlin retreated up the stairs, but he paused again at the top to watch. Uther raised his hand and, without looking over his shoulder, crooked his fingers in a 'come here' gesture. One of his attendants, the blond one, stepped forward. He was, Merlin guessed, a few years older than Merlin himself and there was something intangible in his bearing that suggested he had modelled himself on his boss.
Uther said something and Gaius's face lit up. He took half a step forward, both arms rising slightly, but he hesitated and they merely shook hands.
Merlin watched the three of them talk for a few moments and then Gaius turned and led Uther and his entourage through the partition door into the Great Hall. Merlin didn't see any of them again for the rest of the day.
Pendragon's Folly, Chapter 2
I am off work today, but I am away tomorrow, so I'll be posting future chapters on Saturdays.
Title: Pendragon's Folly
Pairing: M/A, eventually.
Characters: in this chapter - Merlin, Gaius, Gwen, Leon, Gwaine
Rating: PG maybe even U
Chapter Word Count: 7,250
Warnings: No sex
Summary: There's an out of work wizard, a museum, a sizeable donation that turns it into a building site, suspicious happenings and magic. A sort of 'take your fandom to work' story.
Author's note 1: When it comes to romance, this story is the definition of 'slow burn'.
Author's note 2: More thanks than I can say to my beta, plot wrangler and best friend, sparrow2000.
Comments are always greatly appreciated, loved and cherished.
Disclaimer: I write fan fic. All the characters from the Merlin series are the property of the BBC and Shine, etc. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this writing.
Pendragon's Folly
Chapter 1
Merlin dug in his pocket for the key his mother had given him, but he hesitated to use it. Instead, he hitched his pack on his shoulder, raised his hand to the bell and pushed the button. From inside he heard the faint electronic chime of Big Ben preparing to strike the hour.
After a while, just as he was beginning to wonder if his uncle was out and whether he should use the key after all, the faint sound of shuffling footsteps was followed by the rattle of the latch. The door swung open and his uncle gazed at him blankly for a second, before his face broke into a welcoming smile. "Merlin, my boy. Come in, come in," he exclaimed, stepping back into the darkness of the narrow hallway.
Merlin followed and after an awkward hug Gaius turned to lead the way past the front room, to the living room at the back of the house, saying over his shoulder, "I've just put the kettle on. I wasn't expecting you until Sunday."
"It is Sunday, Uncle Gaius."
"Yes, yes. I know. Well, what a wonderful surprise."
Once he was in the living room he turned. "Leave your pack by the coat rack and take a seat. I won't be a moment," he said, before going through to the tiny kitchen beyond.
Merlin shrugged himself free of his rucksack, swinging it down and laying it on the bottom three steps of the steep staircase that climbed the width of the house, to prevent it from entirely blocking the passageway.
The living room was smaller than he remembered. A square dining table that would seat four if it were pulled away from the wall occupied most of the alcove under the stairs. But the room was dominated by an easy chair set facing the cast iron fireplace, where a pile of coal smouldered sluggishly. There was no television set, although there was a very nice, old fashioned hi-fi system on top of the dark Victorian sideboard against the wall opposite the fire.
From the kitchen, Gaius called, "How long has it been since I've seen you?"
"Four years," Merlin replied. "You came for Christmas."
Gaius reappeared with a teapot cradled in both hands. "Yes, I suppose it must be." He shuffled over to put it down on the table. As he turned to go back to the kitchen, he shot Merlin a sly grin. "Although if I remember rightly, I didn't see much of you then. You were always off with your friend, Will. I think your mother was lucky you stayed in on Christmas Day."
Shamefaced, Merlin shrugged. He didn't remember, but it seemed likely. "Sorry?" he said.
Gaius reappeared with two mugs, a sugar bowl and a plastic milk bottle on a tray. "You were young," he said, putting the tray down next to the teapot. He collapsed into one of the two accessible dining chairs. "Sit down, sit down. How is Will? He was a bright lad, as I remember."
Bending his head under the slope of the ceiling under the stairs, Merlin took the second chair. "He's in London now. A journalist at the Daily News. On his way to being their top reporter, according to him."
Gaius picked up the teapot. "And you?" he asked as he began to pour. "Your mother said you got a job at Mercia Chemicals, straight out of York?"
Merlin grimaced ruefully. "I did."
"Hmm. What happened?"
"Umm…" Gaius's right eyebrow rose and Merlin sighed. "They were trying to find a way to synthesise..." He paused. "Well, it's still in development, so I probably shouldn't say. And, um, it sort of worked, but only when I was there." Off Gaius's look he sat back as far as he could without cracking his head and held up his hands defensively. "Honestly, I didn't know. I thought it was supposed to be like that. It was only when Dr Franc took me aside and started asking what I was doing that I twigged."
Gaius poured milk into his mug. "I have a book that might be of use to you," he said. "I picked it up last year and was going to send it to you for your birthday. A collection of spells and remedies." He added a teaspoon of sugar and gave it a stir. I can see what they're supposed to do, but I can't tell if they'll work." He frowned across at Merlin. "You have this talent, but you've never, as far as I know, attempted to train or harness it. Your mum talked a lot, that Christmas." Taking a sip of tea, he sighed. "I'll dig it out before supper," he said and put his mug down. "So after the incident in the lab, what happened? You left Mercia Chemicals?"
"It seemed best."
"Quite right, my boy."
"But now I'm unemployed and I don't think they'll give me a good reference."
"Hmm... Well, there are still jobs in Camelot, I suppose. But we can't have you idle." A slow smile curved Gaius's mouth. "I'll tell you what," he said. "You can come into the museum with me in the meantime. Just until you find something else. There's always plenty to do and another pair of young hands will be useful."
Merlin narrowed his eyes. "I thought the museum was closed for the redevelopment."
Gaius shrugged. "Yes, well, I suppose it is. Mostly. It's all a huge disturbance. But that doesn't mean the mundane work stops. The collections still have to be cared for in storage. We had to move them out so fast, it's a wonder some of them survived the upheaval."
***
It was just after 8:30 the next morning when Gaius and Merlin walked up the wide front path of The Pendragon Memorial Museum, known locally as Pendragon’s Folly. It occupied a prominent position on the corner of Market Street and Front Street and, even to the uninitiated, it was obvious that it had originally been intended as a railway station.
From Market Street, only the end wall of the original engine shed with its wide arched roof was visible. An area of different brick marked where the access for the tracks should have been and now played host to four large advertisement hoardings.
The entrance was in Front Street. Tacked onto the side of the engine shed, the imposing doors were shaded under a portico that jutted out from a building of mellow pink brick and richly carved stone work in the Victorian Gothic style. A shallow flight of seven steps half obscured by a wooden wheelchair ramp led up to the double doors. A number of the windows were blacked out and another large hording covered at least three of them on the first floor, proclaiming, 'Greenswood Building Contractors'. Next to that, a smaller one read, 'DuLac & Lott, Architects and Designers'.
"Most of this part of the building was supposed to be the Station Hotel," Gaius explained. "But that never happened, either."
He led the way up the path, turning right in front of the steps and around to a smaller entrance. From a large key ring he extracted from his pocket he used three separate keys to unlock the door, which he pushed open. Inside, he paused. "Huh, alarm's off," he said. "Gwen must have got in early."
While Gaius was relocking the door, Merlin looked around. They were standing in a large square room with mahogany and glass display cases ranged around all the walls and a glass topped display table in the middle. The upper walls were painted in eggshell blue and there was a large damp patch in one corner where a length of the fancy plaster cornicing that circled the rest of the room at the junction of wall and ceiling was missing. A varnished oak door in the opposite corner occupied the only other clear wall space.
"I remember this," he said.
"It was supposed to be the ticket office," Gaius explained. He walked across the room and opened the door, kicking a wooden wedge into place to hold it open. "And through here is the main entrance foyer for both the station and the hotel."
From the Ticket office doorway, two large arches blocked by plywood panels filled the wall immediately on their right. One had a display case parked in front of it. The other had a small, plain door inset into the plywood. "The Great Hall's through there," Gaius said.
Directly across the marble floor was the bottom of a sweeping staircase that took a few steps then turned and climbed up the opposite wall. It was guarded by a heavy marble balustrade supported on solid, turned marble uprights which continued when the staircase became a balcony running across the room above the inner glass doors of the main entrance. "And," he pointed at another door under the stairs, "that's the Ladies' Waiting Room. The Great Hall's been cleared. I'll show you around later. The office is up here. Come on." He crossed to the staircase and unhooked a silk rope that prevented access, laying it over the banister. "Time for tea first."
At the top of the stairs he paused next to a closed door. "There's a whole warren of rooms on both sides that we've never used," he said. "Most of them are damp. The dry ones on this side are the official stores." He turned and led the way along the wide balcony and paused in front of a pair of large double doors. "Since we cleared the Great Hall, we put some of the rooms over there to use," he said, pointing at a door facing them at the end of the balcony. "But this is my workroom."
They entered a large room that spanned the entire width of the foyer. "It was supposed to be the hotel reception," Gaius explained. "Kettle's over there," he added, pointing at a short kitchen unit against the wall.
Merlin took the hint and went to make tea, filling the kettle from the four litre plastic bottle standing next to it. A large, brown, potbellied teapot and a collection of mugs which, surprisingly, were clean stood waiting with the makings of tea and instant coffee. The kettle was still warm.
"Oh, here," Gaius said. Merlin turned around and Gaius opened his briefcase to extract a plastic bottle of milk.
Taking it with a nod, Merlin set about making tea in a single mug for Gaius and coffee for himself while Gaius went over to the huge desk at the far end of the room. He put his briefcase down and began rifling through a pile of envelopes that were stacked neatly on the corner of the desk.
Merlin took Gaius's tea across and put it down next to him. Gaius nodded his thanks, but he was reading, so Merlin retreated to the chair belonging to the only other desk, under the window, and looked around.
Apart from the two desks, the imposing Victorian monstrosity and the modern office cast-off, a round mahogany table with fours chairs occupied the middle of the floor and an ancient photocopier stood in the corner. Bookshelves lined the walls on either side of the door and behind Gaius's desk. Above them the ornate plaster moulding had been painted over so many times that little detail showed through. He drank his coffee.
The phone rang and Gaius picked it up. "Pendragon Memorial Museum," he said. He listened for a few moments and his shoulders slumped slightly. "Now?" he asked. He listened again. "It can't wait? No. Okay. Yes, I suppose so. Okay, yes, I'll see you soon."
He put the phone down and looked over at Merlin. "I'm sorry," he began, breaking off as the door opened and a young woman came in. She wore jeans and a bright yellow blouse that complemented her dark complexion and highlighted her bright eyes. She was carrying a mug.
Merlin got to his feet and Gaius said, "Ah, Gwen, good morning. The kettle's boiled if you want a cup." He waved a hand in Merlin's direction. "This is my nephew, Merlin. He's going to be helping me with the collections for a few weeks, just until he finds a job." Merlin offered her a little wave and a smile in greeting.
"Thanks, but I've just had one," she said, heading across to the counter and putting her mug down. She nodded at Merlin. "Hi, I'm Gwen."
Gaius hum'd, and said, "I was planning to show him around, but it appears I've been summoned up to the Town Hall for some reason. I wonder if I could impose upon you instead? "
"Is anything wrong?" Merlin asked.
"No, no, I don't think so," Gaius said.
Gwen smiled at Merlin. "Of course," she said. "It would be a pleasure." She went over to the big desk, opened a drawer and took something out, shoving it in her pocket. Coming back to Merlin, she bounced, swinging her arms loosely at her sides while she shifting her weight from the balls of her feet to her toes and back again. "Come with me" she said in an exaggeratedly mysterious voice, "and I will show you all the wonders of Pendragon's Folly."
Merlin laughed. "Thanks," he said. "That'd be great." He looked across at Gaius, who made a shooing motion with his arms, so he followed Gwen out to the balcony where she had paused to look down over the foyer.
"Are you a curator here, too?" Merlin asked, coming to stand beside her.
Gwen shook her head with a laugh. "No, I run the Museum Club," she said.
"Oh wow! Really? I used to be in that. I loved coming here on a Saturday morning, when I was five or six. You run it?"
"Yeah, I have a couple of volunteers who help sometimes, but I'm the only paid member of staff, so I organise it." The warmth with which she spoke was very attractive and she looked up into his face with a ready smile. "If you were a member, you know what it is," she said, but continued without giving him time to say anything. "We try to keep the kids off the streets and out of their parents' hair." She laughed again, a self-deprecating sound. "And hopefully encourage some education into their heads. I do the school visits and things like that, too. And, well everyone who works here, they sort of end up doing anything to help." She glanced sideways at Merlin from under her lashes. "Although there are only two of us now, so…" She shrugged and smiled. Smiling seemed to be her default expression.
"Is that because the museum's closed?"
She blinked. "But it isn't. We still have the use of the Foyer and the Ticket Office and the Ladies' Waiting Room." She looked around. "And a couple of offices. And the store rooms above the LWR. That's where the Museum Club meets. In the Ladies' Waiting Room, I mean, not in the stores. That wouldn't be safe." She paused for breath and her tone changed. "At least we'll meet there for a few more months."
"And then what?"
"Well, then we'll have to close, I suppose. But since that's when my contract's up and the Council have withdrawn funding, I imagine it'll all be on hold until the museum opens properly again."
"Gaius didn't say anything about the Council withdrawing funding," Merlin said. "Why would they do that when they're spending all this money?" He twisted around, indicating the displays below them and the whole building beyond the blocked in arches.
"Oh, no," Gwen explained. "It isn't the Council who're paying for the redevelopment."
Merlin turned to look at her and she nodded. "Okay, look, the redevelopment is funded by a grant from the Pendragon Company. I guess Mr Pendragon thought it would be good to re-establish the family connection. The Council doesn't own the Museum. It's owned and run by a Trust. My salary comes from the Council through a special, educational support grant. But with the spending cuts..." she shrugged. "I knew last year that they wouldn't be renewing it." Merlin wrinkled his brow in sympathy and Gwen shrugged again. "Way of the modern world of work," she said.
Taking a deep breath, she slapped both hands down on the balcony rail. "But we're doing the tour. What do you know about Pendragon's Folly?"
"Not much. Bits and pieces. I assume it was built by a Pendragon?"
"Yeah, well, Pendragon's factory closed down years ago. I don't even think there are any Pendragons left in town." She braced herself against the rail. "Okay, so, the unofficial, official version." Taking on the tone of monotonous cheerfulness employed by tour guides everywhere, she said, "If you would look across to the arches opposite; above the one on the right you will see a bust of the man who built this edifice, Mr Thomas Jonas Pendragon, of Pendragon and Burnt, manufacturers of quality paintbrushes, principal citizen and employer of the market town of Camelot, circa 1850. A man of great vision who was, unfortunately for him, way ahead of his time." Merlin looked at the arch containing the temporary door into the Great Hall and on a plinth above it he could make out a marble bust.
"And that one," Gwen said, pointing at another bust above the other arch, "is Prince Albert. I think Thomas had hopes the Prince Consort would come and open the station. Didn't happen." She glanced slyly up at him from the corner of her eyes. "The Pendragon Memorial Museum opened in 1882 to display the Pendragon collection of vehicles of various sorts to a wondering public. Over the years, other worthy residents of the town added to the collections and by the seventies, the 1970s that is, it had become the charming hodgepodge of random and unconnected memorabilia you see today." She turned on the spot with her arms spread wide from her sides. "Or not," she added, "since most of it's in storage at the moment."
By unspoken agreement, they started walking towards the stairs. "Mr Pendragon had delusions of grandeur," Gwen said. "Before the iron came, as they say, as if it hadn't been there in the hills all the time, Camelot was just a small market town. Pendragon and Burnt made artists' paintbrushes. But Mr Pendragon bought into one of the first mines and made a fortune. He thought the town would become more important than it did, so he invested in a railway station fit for a king. Unfortunately, he was alone in his vision and couldn't raise the political clout to force Lord Bayard, the local landowner, to allow passage of a railway through his land. On top of that, Camelot is probably the only town in England that every other railway company ignored. Even while they were building stations for two cottage hamlets, everywhere else. And since, as you know, we have a perfectly functional and much more modest station behind the Town Hall, when the railway did arrive, it wasn't into Market Street." She scrunched up her nose and smiled up at him. "Which is just as well, since the town grew out in this direction and the railway would have got in the way."
They had reached the turn of the stairs by this time and paused. "In the 1870s the son of the family used part of it as a stable and coach house. That was when the Pendragon family still lived in the town centre. Pendragon House was burnt down during the war." She started down the last few stairs. "Anyway, when the young man was killed in the first Boer War, his distraught parents donated the entire place, with all of its contents, to be a museum and named in his memory." She paused and looked around the foyer with a fond smile. "It's a magical place," she said, "and it really deserves to be done up."
"I'm not sure Uncle Gaius agrees. He seems to dislike the whole business."
She glanced back at him. "But it was your Uncle Gaius who had the idea of applying to Pendragon's for a grant," she said. "It's true that the Board of Trustees are in charge of the project, and they mostly keep Gaius out of it. Or he keeps himself out of it." Her brow furrowed. "I don't think he's even been to the designers' place. That's Dulac and Lott. They have an office on Market Square. One of those tall, thin, brick buildings with the big bay windows." They started walking again. "But he's planning what's going to go into the new galleries. I've heard him on the phone to the Treasurer. He says The Board want to get rid of the entire mediaeval period and make the Museum interactive and relevant." She grinned. "He gets quite heated. I think he'll win, though. He loves this place."
"You agree with him? About the interactive idea?"
"I think there's room for the old stuff and the learning tools. Come on. This way." Pulling a key out of her pocket, she held it up for him to see. "Gaius says we've always had problems with the Great Hall. Half of it was blocked off years ago and rented out. The rent paid for most of the upkeep, but that's been cleared, so apart from the redevelopment grant we only have the original endowment now and that's not worth much."
She unlocked the temporary door and they stepped through.
Once inside Merlin gazed around in awe. "I don't remember it being like this," he said. "It's fantastic!"
"There used to be a false ceiling," Gwen explained. "It was put in in the sixties, because the space is just so big. We had a real rush to get the objects cleared out, then the builders came in and the false ceiling and the wall were down before we knew it." She looked around. "That was six months ago."
From where they were standing, the original intention for the building was even more obvious. Two rows of cast iron pillars supported the arched roof over a wide floor and the centre line of the roof was glazed, filling the space with natural light.
Gwen pointed out a dusty line on the floor. "You can see where the wall was." It cut across the width of the hall and would have reduced it by more than half. "Everything beyond there was rented by the Council, as a furniture and stationery store."
A door in the wall at the far end of the building opened and a man in a hard hat came in. He saw them and waved. Gwen waved back. "Hi, Leon," she called. Turning back to Merlin, she said, "That's Leon Degrance, he's the foreman on site."
Leon walked towards them. "Hello, Gwen," he said, when he was near enough to do so without shouting. "Where's your hard hat?"
"Oops, sorry." She grimaced. "We won't come in. I'm just showing Merlin around. This is Merlin. He's our new volunteer."
Leon reached them, smiled and shook Merlin's hand. "Hello," he said. "Nice to meet you."
"Hi," Merlin said. "This place is amazing. I never realised it was so big."
"It's pretty impressive, isn't it?" Leon agreed. "A lot of work, too. It's been badly neglected." He turned to Gwen. "Have you seen Lance?" he asked. "He and Gwaine were supposed to come down to inspect the most recent work."
"No, I've not seen them."
"Ah well, no doubt he'll find me when he's ready. You, however, really shouldn't be beyond that door without a hard hat and someone from my crew to accompany you. You know that."
"I do, I do. We're going. Honest. You didn't see us. Come on Merlin, let's get out of here before we cause an industrial accident." With an apologetic wave at Leon, she ducked through the door and Merlin followed.
Once back in the foyer, facing the main entrance, the grand marble staircase was to their right and opposite them were the large, glass inner doors that occupied the area under the balcony, with the outer doors visible beyond. The room was full of mismatched display cases. Some were painted in the garish colours of the seventies. Others were varnished oak or mahogany, obviously survivors from the original Victorian galleries.
"So, to the displays," Gwen said, "The foyer didn't used to have much in it. But we moved some display cases out of the Great Hall. Now it's our modern history gallery." She turned slowly on the spot, pointing at cases. "Tudor and Stuart, Georgian and finally Victorian Camelot."
"Nothing after that?"
"No room." She grinned. "We ran out of wall space. The natural history collection, Roman Camelot and some of the mining stuff are in the Ticket Office, where you came in. The High Kings period, the mediaeval excavation on North Road and the Early Modern Collection are in the Ladies Waiting Room. That's Gaius's pride and joy" She shrugged. "Well, you'll know that's his period."
"I didn't know he was still publishing."
"He's written a couple of guides to the collections and I know he has a book he's working on, but last time I asked he said all this had got in the way."
She led him across to the Ladies Waiting Room. "The only thing we moved in here," she said, her hand on the door knob, "were the Egyptian mummies." Once again her mischievous smile broke through. "The mummies were donated by the sister of Sir Frederick Compton-Blythe. He was an ex-colonial civil servant."
She tilted her head back, looked down her nose at Merlin and in a parody of a cut-glass accent explained, "He picked them up cheap from a shady sort of native chap on the banks of the Suez Canal, on his way home from twenty-five years' service to the Raj, don't ya know." Then she relaxed and in her normal voice continued, "Unfortunately, he died a month after getting home. She donated them to the museum, on condition that they remain permanently displayed, so we can't pack them away until the British Museum, or someone, can take them for conservation." She shrugged one shoulder and pushed the door open.
"Gaius used to have them stuck away in a dark corner of the Great Hall," she said pointing at a tall display case containing two vaguely human shaped bundles of rags, "But apart from them, the most valuable objects are here." She led him across the room to another glass topped table, set against the wall. "The pre-Saxon gold collection. It was found in a field near Lilebrook in the thirties." Under the glass, among a collection of pottery shards, glass beads and old coins were three gold arm bands inset with round stones and decorated with slightly tarnished enamel work, a large ring broach and the remains of two swords. The blades were pitted and almost rusted away, but the hilts were still whole. They looked like they were made of gold, too.
"Those are amazing," Merlin said, his voice soft with wonder.
"Aren't they just? There's more in the safe, but that's the cream of the collection. We can't display it all."
"Why not?"
"The insurance costs too much."
They stood in silence for a few minutes, while Merlin gazed at the intricate craftsmanship of the gold work. There was something about them that stirred him deep inside.
Eventually he became aware that Gwen was shifting from foot to foot, so he pulled himself away and turned to look at the rest of the room. A relief map of the local area covered the wall where the windows would be, with labelled dots marking the location of early settlements. Next to that was a stone cross, about four feet tall and carved with knotwork. On the other side of the room, more mahogany cases were crammed full of small domestic items.
"And that's it, really," Gwen said.
With one last look around, Merlin followed her back out into the foyer.
"There was so much more on display when we had the other galleries," she said. "The store rooms are packed. Come on, I'll show you."
When they started to climb the stairs again, Gwen resumed her tour leader role. "This was all supposed to be part of the hotel." They reached the top and she pointed to the door next to them. "The original stores," she said. "We'll come back here after you've seen the rest. Don't want to put you off."
She led him past Gaius's office and through the door at the end. Another door faced them across a wide corridor that stretched a short way to their left, before taking a right turn. "The collections we took off display are down there," she said. "That's where we're going next. This is my workroom. I'm sort of sharing it at the moment. With the architects." She might have been blushing. "I mean, I let them use the spare desk." She pushed open the door and Merlin followed her inside.
It was not a large room. Shelves along two walls were filled by cardboard boxes, plastic storage tubs, box files and a short length of ring binders. There was a desk in front of the window, which Merlin decided was Gwen's since, although it was obviously in use, it was neat and tidy. But what caught and held his eye was the other desk, which was occupied by a harassed looking young man, all long, dark hair and designer stubble.
He was talking on his mobile, but looked up and smiled when he saw them. He mouthed a 'Hello', to Gwen, before returning his attention to his conversation. "Ask Gaius? Do you really think-? Okay, okay, yes. Yes, I'll ask Gaius and I'll ask Gwen. In fact, I'll ask anyone you like." He laughed. "Yes, he's here, too. He's on site with Leon. Yes, I'll see you soon. About ten thirty, I hope. Yes. Okay," before finally adding a more decisive, "Goodbye, Morgana," although there was a fond smile on his face as he said it.
He put the phone down and grinned at them. "The very woman," he said, spreading his arms wide and standing up, as if he was about to come around the desk and embrace Gwen.
She pretended to hide behind Merlin. "You can ask your question in a minute, Gwaine," she said. "First, this is Merlin. He's going to be helping Gaius for a while."
Gwaine's attention switched to Merlin and he did walk around the edge of the desk with his hand out. "Welcome to Pendragon's Folly," he said, shaking Merlin's hand. "Although I shouldn't call it that and I'd get into trouble with Morgana if she heard me. I'm Gwaine, one half of Dulac and Lott, Architects and Interior Designers. It's good to meet you."
"And you," Merlin said, rescuing his hand and stepping back a pace. "You're busy though."
"Busy?" Gwaine asked. He sounded confused by the concept.
"You had a question," Merlin said, "From Morgana. For Gwen."
"Oh. Oh yes." He turned to Gwen. "Gwen, Gwen, most wonderful and beautiful of women…" Gwen frowned at him, but there was laughter her eyes. "Have you seen our latest invoice?" he asked. "Morgana swears she sent it to Gaius last week and she wants to check he got it, because Cedric's denying all knowledge." He looked at Merlin. "I don't know why she insists on posting it, when Lance is here almost every day. It's as if she doesn't trust us."
"She doesn't," Gwen said. "I don't know why she trusts Gaius to deal with it, either."
"She always says he ought to see them before he hands them on."
"Yeah, I know, but he doesn't look at them. And no, I haven't seen it, but I promise I'll check before lunch and make sure it's not sitting in his in-tray. Okay?"
"More than I could hope for," he assured her. He would probably have said more, but his phone rang and he pounced on it. Gwen raised her hand as she backed towards the door and he waved back.
Merlin followed Gwen, taking a deep breath once the door was safely shut with them on the outside. "Is he always-?" he asked.
"Oh yeah," Gwen said. "But it's just his way. He's madly in love with his equally crazy girlfriend."
"Morgana?" Merlin guessed.
"Goodness, no! Elaine. Morgana's the office manager at Dulac and Lott. She keeps them afloat, while Lance and Gwaine do the creative stuff. Come on, I'll show you the new stores first and then the old ones. If you're working for Gaius you'll be spending a lot of time in them."
***
"Did Gwen show you around?" Gaius asked, spooning macaroni cheese onto a plate that evening.
"Yes, she showed me the whole place. The store rooms are pretty full, aren't they? And there're more of them than I expected."
"Yes, well, with the galleries emptied… But we do need to do a proper inventory. All the big objects are off site, but everything else that came off display is in the rooms along the corridor past Gwen's workroom. They're all properly packed away, as you saw. Then there are the rooms above the Ladies Waiting Room and beyond. That corridor extends over the old hotel kitchens and the ballroom, where we used to have our domestic life displays. We can't get into those galleries at the moment. The back stairs are unsafe and the only other entrance is from the Great Hall." He reached across the table and handed Merlin the plate he had filled. "There are things in those stores that probably haven't been looked at since they were donated," he said, spooning pasta onto his own plate. "I'm pretty sure there's a lot of rubbish that we might want to dispose of, if the trustees will agree. I'm hoping that the worst was never accessioned."
"Accessioned?"
Gaius paused in his task and rested the pan on the table. "Formally entered into the collections," he explained, "with a number recorded in the register. If there are things that were never accessioned, we can get rid of them with no red tape." He frowned. "Or we can accession them properly." He started spooning again. "I've put together a disposal policy that I'd hoped to take to The Board for their next meeting."
He tipped the last of the macaroni cheese onto his plate and dumped the pan on the edge of the table out of his way. A bit too close to the edge. Merlin saw it tip and the potential for cheese sauce all over Gaius's carpet.
Then it stopped, frozen at an acute angle. Merlin reached out, took hold of the handle and put the pan back squarely on the table top.
"Does your mother let you do magic at the table?" Gaius asked.
"Um… She doesn't mind, as long as I'm careful not to be seen."
Gaius turned his head and looked towards the window with its net curtains and the faint view beyond of the bedroom windows of one of the big houses on Milton Avenue across the back alley. "Hmm," he said. "Remember that when the light is on in here and it's dark outside, those nets don't stop anyone seeing in. Probably best if you abstain, my boy."
Merlin nodded and Gaius smiled. "But you do seem to have acquired more control than I remember and thank you for saving my carpet," he added.
Merlin smiled back and started to shovelling macaroni into his mouth. "This is good," he mumbled.
"All out of a packet," Gaius admitted. "What did you do with the rest of your day, after Gwen had shown you around? I'm sorry I was called away."
"It's okay. I helped Gwen with a school group and then I went for a walk around town, just to remind myself where everything is. Then I came back here and had a look through the book you gave me. It's pretty amazing."
"Good," Gaius said, looking pleased. "I hoped it might be helpful."
"Where did you find it?"
"An antiquarian book shop in London. I'd heard of it, but it took me a few years to locate a copy."
They both concentrated on eating, but after a while Merlin looked up. "Gwen said it was your idea to apply to Pendragon's for the grant." he said.
"It was. I thought it was a long-shot. I didn't even know if Uther had ever been to the museum. But the leaks in the roof were getting worse and we couldn't cover it. If it hadn't been for that grant... Well, I choose to think of him as our saviour." He caught Merlin's eye and Merlin couldn't tell if the twist of his lips was a smile, or not. "I only asked for a few thousand," he said. "It was Uther who decided that if the job was going to be done, it might as well be done properly. The next thing I knew, The Board were talking about interactive education centres and we had to close the Great Hall." This time the smile was mildly self-mocking. "But thankfully, the Board also decided to bring in Lance and Gwaine to do the hard work. I'm much better with the collections than all that design stuff." He pushed his plate away and sat back in his chair. "Tea?" he asked.
"I'll do it," Merlin said, getting up and collecting the dirty plates.
"It's good to see Uther taking an interest, though," Gaius said. "He's been invited to become a Trustee. That's why I had to go up to the Town Hall. The Chair's called a special meeting, tomorrow evening, and he's coming up for it. She wants me there."
***
After lunch the next day, Gaius began to initiate Merlin into the proper care and recording of museum objects. Pulling a storage box down off a shelf in his office, he placed it on the round table and removed the lid. "These Roman pot shards," he said, carefully lifting out an object and peeling aside the tissue paper it was wrapped in, "were excavated from a single site and donated to the museum shortly after I started working here." The object he finally exposed was an uninspiring, curved lump of pottery. He turned it over to show Merlin a number painted in tiny, neat writing on the underside. "That's an accession number," he said. "Each object has a unique number that is listed in the Accessions Register. We paint them on so they can't get lost."
Rewrapping the pot shard, he put it back in its box and replaced the lid. "Come on," he said. "We'll go through to the new stores and I'll show you how things should be kept when they're not on display. Put this back on the shelf, would you?"
Merlin took the box and placed it back where Gaius had taken it from. As he turned to follow Gaius from the room, he glanced out of the window. A large black car was in the act of pulling up at the curb outside. "Uncle Gaius?" he asked. "Are you expecting a visit from the Queen?"
Gaius came over, just as the chauffeur got out the car and walked around the back to open the passenger door.
Gaius took one look and crossed to the door. "No, but he might be the next best thing to royalty," he said over his shoulder as he left the room.
Curiosity piqued, Merlin followed.
By the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, Gaius not being particularly nimble, three men were standing just inside the glass doors, looking around appraisingly. One was older and was clearly the boss. He was not unusually tall, but he dominated his company. His grey pinstripe suit was in no way drab. It made him look distinguished and stylish at the same time, and he wore it like armour.
The other two were young. They were much of a height, but where one was black, solidly built and bald, the other was slighter and blond.
The older man's eyes swept across the upper walls first before descending to ground level and fixing on Gaius. "Ah, Gaius, my old friend," he said. "There you are."
The other two stood back in respectful attendance.
"Uther," Gaius said, going over to greet their visitor properly. Uther Pendragon met him half way with his hand out and they shook.
Merlin stayed on the turn of the stairs, leaning against the balustrade and curious to see the man who was rescuing the museum.
"It's good to see you again," Uther said flinging his arm around Gaius's shoulders.
Beside him Gaius appeared diminished in both authority and vitality. Just watching Uther from across the room made Merlin, himself, feel gangling and awkward in a way he thought he had outgrown when he left school.
Gaius's voice was quieter, calmer, almost cautious. "And you too, Uther."
"Show me what you've done with my money," Uther said, drawing back and looking around again. "I came up early so I could see the progress."
"There's not much to see, yet," Gaius said. "Your people have stripped the interior and begun the repairs, but we've hardly started on the conceptual plans. It's just a shell."
"Show me anyway. If what my foreman says is right, and I'm sure it is, the restoration work on the fabric will take some time. This entrance is wonderful. The marble, the carved stonework. A wonderful introduction to the building."
"This is the only part that's still open to the public," Gaius explained." We've concentrated our best exhibits here, as you can see. Mostly things with local significance. Let me show you this: it's an original 1825 box of Pendragon paints and artists' brushes." He started to lead the way over to one of the display cases against the wall, but Uther didn't follow.
"Maybe later," Uther said, with a small, dismissive gesture. "First show me the Main Hall and tell me about your project. I've been too busy to follow it as I would have liked." He paused and clapped his hands together, emphasising the punctuation. "But that is a thing of the past. I'm very interested in what you're doing. I haven't seen this place since I was a scrubby schoolboy, but even from the outside I could see it has great potential."
Merlin retreated up the stairs, but he paused again at the top to watch. Uther raised his hand and, without looking over his shoulder, crooked his fingers in a 'come here' gesture. One of his attendants, the blond one, stepped forward. He was, Merlin guessed, a few years older than Merlin himself and there was something intangible in his bearing that suggested he had modelled himself on his boss.
Uther said something and Gaius's face lit up. He took half a step forward, both arms rising slightly, but he hesitated and they merely shook hands.
Merlin watched the three of them talk for a few moments and then Gaius turned and led Uther and his entourage through the partition door into the Great Hall. Merlin didn't see any of them again for the rest of the day.
Pendragon's Folly, Chapter 2