Once upon a time in the Palace of Criterion, King John ruled over the happy land of Bartholomew. He was loved by his people and was called Good King John, for he was good indeed. Having fought in battles against neighbouring Kingdom of Buckingham in his Crown Prince years, King John was well aware of the pain and sorrows of conflicts from the past, and treated his people in the most gentle manner. Now, with a benign Queen of Buckingham whose interest was mainly in the exchange of handicrafts instead of cannon shots, both kingdoms had known peace for twenty years.

But one day, the peace of Bartholomew was stirred by a series of mysterious deaths. Lord Stamford, who was usually in charge of Everything, felt out of his depth, and had to go to King John.

"Another dead body has been discovered, your Majesty, the fourth in one week. A housemaid this time, in a garden."

The skin around his eyes was saggy – not much rest last night then, thought King John. Not a good sign. "So I've heard. Pray sit down, Mike. More the reason to believe these are not mere accidents."

"Indeed, your Majesty. There are some wild rumours circulating – concerning witchcraft, 'soul-sucking', or whatnot. Judging by the lack of discernible signs of struggle and …"

"Mike," there was a certain softness in King John's tone, but his expression was stern."It's highly unlikely of your character to give in to such baloney."

"No, I do not believe in anything of the sort, your Majesty. But the mind of the commons is more imaginative and readily twisted. There certainly is something eerie about those peaceful corpses, as if someone, or something, led them there and they just willingly died. On the up side for the clergyman, the sales of charms against black magic have tripled in the last two days."Lord Stamford added with a shrug.

"Oh bother."King John sighed, heavily. "How are your men? Any progress?"

"Well, we are working on it, but without even a cause of death to start with, we are – at a loss, to be frank."An apologetic smile flashed in Lord Stamford's plump face. "Yet the annual trade fair of the Strand approaches. In fact, the very purpose of my presence here today, your Majesty, is to suggest the enlistment of some outside help, if I may. Does the name of Sir Holmes strike you?"

"Sir Holmes the Chancellor of Buckingham?" King John raised an eyebrow. "He surely is a brilliant man, but I doubt…"

"I do apologize, your Majesty, for not making myself clear. Sir Holmes the junior it is."

"Oh, you mean Sir 'Weirdo' Holmes."

Lord Stamford looked positively surprised and almost choked out a laugh. "Your knowledge of folklore amazes me, your Majesty."

"Molly does tell me about the gossip in town sometimes, as can be quite entertaining to say the least." King John felt rather smug.

According to Molly, this Sir "Weirdo" Holmes earned his name through his passion for unnatural deaths and an unnerving ability to "read people". His work might seem to resemble that of an alchemist or botanist, but it was clear that his interest was in neither gold or flowers. He sometimes wandered into Bartholomew territory in search for unusual plants, animals or rocks not found in Buckingham, and was known to have helped people solve their impossible mysteries. Most were stunned by his infallible genius, while some accused him as evil and mean. More believed him to be a wizard.

"Although I do not really understand the work of this younger Sir Holmes, invite him to Bartholomew if you so insist, and see what he can do. At least there is no harm in that."

"Once again, my apologies, your Majesty. "Lord Stamford appeared slightly embarrassed."He's already here."

Before King John could respond, a tall, slim figure had strode into the court swiftly, and stepped up right in front of the throne. "Greetings, your Majesty! The cause of your recent loss of civilian lives is almost undoubtfully poison, of the most subtle and effective type. To determine what substance exactly, I hereby request the access to your royal library, and to the crime scenes, in order to narrow down my formulations regarding to the culprit behind these murders, which your men have failed to realize as such. And there are more to come, unless I am permitted to act quickly enough." The tone of his string of words was casual and flat, but his eyes were full of glee.

King John just stared.

Sir "Weirdo" Holmes certainly did not look like a wizard. Speaking of looks, he was not conventionally good-looking either. Although impeccably dressed, his excessively lean statue bespoke a diet poorer than that of a peasant. The cobalt blue cloak made his youthful complexion – anatomically ridiculous cheekbones - overly pale, which probably resulted from a highly irregular sleep pattern. Nevertheless, there was something striking about his keen eyes and agile long limbs. His words were very far from comforting; however, King John found strange relief in such blunt straight-forwardness.

Lord Stamford uncomfortably nudged the outspoken guest, with his eyes.

"Oh, right. Sherlock Holmes, at Your Majesty's service."Said the youth lazily with a slight bow, clearly not meaning it. "And for apothecary references, I should like access to the Royal Academy's archives as well, but I trust that the royal library itself should suffice, with an enthusiastic and experienced medical man for a master."

While maintaining his stately demeanour, King John swallowed. How on earth did he know that? Even Lord Stamford didn't know about this part of King John's life. Maybe this "Weirdo" Holmes was a wizard indeed.

Or were the Buckingham forces keeping a better tab on him than he was aware of?

Lord Stamford didn't seem to have noticed anything. "You said you need to 'narrow down'. So you have theories already?"

"Six so far. But worthless theories all of them will remain, without adequate data. Which is why I would like to look at the crime scenes as soon as possible, despite your men having trampled all over them, possibly." Sherlock Holmes ignored the mild annoyance on Lord Stamford's face, and was looking expectantly at King John.

"All requests granted. Captain Lestrade will be your escort. Report to me in the evening for any findings." King John commanded.

"That is not my division, your Majesty." Captain Lestrade stepped up from behind the throne and protested. "My duty is your personal safety and not -"

"It's all right, Greg." King John said, gently. "Sir Holmes is going on a murder investigation upon my request in our kingdom, and his personal safety is in no way any slighter than my own. Do not hesitate to mobilise your forces when necessary. It's an honour to have you here, Sir Holmes."

"Sherlock, please. Can I call you John, if we are expected to be talking a lot?'Your Majesty' is four syllables. Too long."

Captain Lestrade gritted his teeth. King John did not hide the look of shock this time, but he might as well be laughing. Sherlock Holmes had been the first to dare to suggest such a thing, and for such a reason. To a King who handled plenty of weird things daily, that was quite an achievement.

"That's rude, Sherlock." His Lordship broke in, with a paternal sternness.

"Oh." Sherlock blinked.

"Actually it sounds like very good reasoning to me, Mike," King John commented with an amused smile. "Since he is not my subject, it doesn't matter."

A ghost of a grin crept upon Sherlock's face momentarily, though both Bartholomew rulers had missed it.

"That's very kind indeed, your Majesty." Lord Stamford bowed.

"Very well, I shall proceed then." Sherlock announced as he turned around, visibly bored by the formality. "Laterz!" And off he went, apparently reciting a list of books and scrolls he needed to an already irritated Captain Lestrade.

"Please do excuse his manners, your Majesty. Despite having come from a most distinguished and prestigious family of Buckingham, he is not the typical aristocrat who…"

"Don't worry, Mike. His manners are… fine." King John caught himself saying. Part of him had already started to regret his "no harm" comment earlier, but another part of him was oddly excited to see how this Sherlock Holmes, of a most curious character, would proceed.