Disclaimer: you know the score by now. Everyone other than Holmes and Watson are mine. Holmes and Watson, however, are a league ahead of any creation I can come up with, and belong to ACD.

NOTE: geography and history has been tweaked a bit for the purposes of the story. As you would expect.

Chapter 6

The air was full of expectation as they walked down the long track towards the Castle. It was a good half mile between the Crown, the last building in the village, and the ruins, but the well-trodden gravel path lay clear before them as it made its way down a valley towards the sea. Holmes led the small party, Watson keeping up and Falconer bringing up the rear, carrying a small bag he had brought with him in the carriage.

A stream bubbled and burbled energetically to their left, hidden in the undergrowth as they descended on the way, whilst on the far side of the stream the gorse covered hillside rose higher above them with every step. The crying of the seagulls was getting louder as they turned a slow right handed corner and saw the deep blue of the early evening sea before them, framed in the cleft of the valley as it made its way towards the shore.

After ten minutes' walking the path at last reached its destination, or at least as close as it was going to get. In one last short but steep descent it drew right up to the edge of a line of cliffs overlooking a narrow bay with the sea still a hundred feet below them. There on the cliff top a wide patch of ground had been trampled by many feet, and Falconer quickly explained that this was a popular place for locals (and any visitors) alike to spend a pleasant afternoon admiring the view. A wooden fence ran the length of the cliff edge to keep those viewing the wonderful sight from getting too close to harm.

However, at that moment both Holmes and Watson were looking in awe at another sight which met their gaze. To their left a narrow path had left the main path, and leapt across the narrow stream to zig-zag up the opposite hillside. Half way up – perhaps a hundred feet above where they were now standing – the path levelled off, rounded the sheer headland and approached the edge of a precipice. A narrow neck of land – almost a knife edge – joined the mainland to an outlying hill – all but an island - upon which were visible the ruins of a once mighty castle. Sheep grazed on the short grass, but there was no sign of any human presence.

"Great heavens, Holmes!" exclaimed Watson. "What a place! I have never seen a castle so well situated for defence. It would be impregnable!"

Holmes meanwhile was carefully tracing the route of the path to the castle with wide eyes, a look of trepidation on his face. Watson looked to him with concern.

"Holmes..?"

Holmes pulled his eyes away from the sight. A slight sheen of perspiration was on his brow. "Watson, we must proceed. I'm sorry, I am only human! Forgive me, I have a ... slight fear of heights ... but the work must be done!"

Falconer was about to say something when there was a shout from behind them. Turning they saw the Postmaster running down the path towards them. They waited as he joined them, and caught his breath.

"Mr Holmes, sir, this just arrived for you from Bristol. I think it's a reply to the telegram you sent when we spoke this afternoon."

"Thank you," replied Holmes, and paid the charge. He moved a step away from them and opened the envelope. What he read was obviously what he was expecting, since he smiled and folded the paper, and put it into his breast pocket.

"Most satisfactory, Watson! Most enlightening." He dismissed the Postmaster and watched as he started to walk back up the path. After a few moments the latter turned to look back at them; then continued up the slope and out of their sight.

"So, Mr Holmes...?" asked Falconer.

"Ah, the telegram," replied Holmes almost absent mindedly. "It carries some information which will hopefully enable me to bring this case to a swift resolution. As I mentioned earlier, I have a number of ideas about what has become of your son. I think I now know that answer."

"This is marvellous," Falconer replied. "You know where he is?"

"I have suspected for a little while. I am unaware of the exact location, of course, but if I am not mistaken that will become obvious." He looked up at the castle. "So, we have to continue our journey. Gentlemen, if you will ..."

With that he started walking along the narrow path towards bridge. However after a few dozen yards, and before reaching the bridge, he stopped and surveyed closely the ground. He seemed to almost immediately find what he was looking for, and called Watson to him. "What do you see?"

A very indistinct path left the narrow path and headed downhill through the high undergrowth towards the cliff top. Watson whistled. "Where you expecting ...?"

Holmes smiled. "Of course. Gentlemen, our way lies not up, but down."

"Down?"asked Falconer. "Surely, you don't mean ..." He looked towards the cliff edge nervously.

"I fear so, your Lordship," replied Holmes. "Please?" and without further ado he pushed his way through the dense gorse and heather that clothed the ground. The path was very faint, but along its route the vegetation seemed to part to allow them through, although it rose above their heads in many places.

"If you hadn't been looking for this path, you would never have spotted it," mused Watson.

"I imagine its origin is as an old smuggler's track," replied Holmes. "It has not been used in many years – until recently – look." He showed them a broken branch a few feet ahead of them. "Someone has been this way recently."

"Benjamin?" asked Falconer.

"I believe so," said Holmes. "I think he found something in the old records, and has finally, in the last week, discovered what he was looking for. He has made repeated and regular visits – always arriving under the cover of darkness, and likewise leaving. He has kept it secret from others. Except that this sort of secret has a way of getting out."

"What has he kept secret? The tomb of King Arthur?" asked Watson.

Holmes smiled. "Yes, the tomb of King Arthur, if that's what you want to think of it as," he replied cryptically.

With that, they reached the end of the path. No fence here was present, the dense undergrowth preventing access, and so they came to the cliff top somewhat abruptly. The line of the path was just discernible as it now turned sharply to the right and started making its way down the cliff in a series of tight bends, running from one side of the narrow valley to the other. At no point was the path more than a few inches wide, and they moved slowly with one shoulder rubbing on the sheer wall whilst to the other side the waves crashed onto the rocks beneath them. On more than one occasion loose stones showered them on their descent, and more than once a foothold was lost and a companion's arm had to reach out to prevent a fall. The bag Falconer was carrying was dropped - "No matter," said Holmes, breathing heavily and with a break in his voice, "better the bag than one of us. We will collect it at the bottom."

After what seemed an age, but in reality was only perhaps fifteen minutes, they reached the foot of the cliff. They stepped with relief onto a steep, narrow shingle beach. Holmes stood for a moment, catching his breath. The whole area was now in the shadow of the hill upon which the castle stood, towering over them on the south side of the bay. Watson saw it first, and gasped at what he saw before them – the narrow entrance of a cave, partially obscured by fallen rocks from the cliff above so that the entrance was only large enough for one of them at a time. It would be impossible to see it from the cliff above, and even if viewed from the castle the entrance was hidden by the rocks.

"In there, Holmes?" he asked of Holmes.

"I think we shall find in there all the answers," replied Holmes. "But care is needed. It is now a little before seven. We only have two hours of light – if you can call it that in this gloom – and the tide will rise quickly. It is low now but this whole area is covered at high tide. We have perhaps less than two hours to get to the bottom of this conundrum."

"No matter, Mr Holmes. We are close, I can almost feel Benjamin here," said Falconer eagerly.

With that they started their way over the loose rocks. But even as they approached the cave entrance, Falconer lost his footing and slipped to the ground. He rose but with difficulty, and sat again, holding his ankle.

"I think it's a sprain," he said, ruefully. Watson made to go to him, but he waved him off. "I'll be alright. Time is against us. Keep going. Find him." He stood and hobbled slowly after them.

They reached the bag where it had fallen, and Holmes opened it. Inside they found torches and kindling. Watson looked quizzically at Holmes.

"I thought it might come to this," explained Holmes. "It is best to be prepared. It was either this or an excursion on the hillside. Which I would have preferred! However, the telegram supported this eventuality."

Watson realised what Holmes meant. "You knew we would find Benjamin either below the castle, or somewhere in the castle."

"Yes, and my money was always on the lower solution, if I may express it like that," replied Holmes. "I thought it might come to this. So, now, gentlemen, into the dark. What we seek will be in here, but we have little time. See, the tide is already higher than it was when we started our descent."

They looked back and saw this was indeed the case; the flat sandy beach, which had appeared so wide when they had looked down from the top of the cliff, was now only some fifty feet wide, and almost every wave brought the sea closer to them.

One by one they scrambled over the last few rocks and into the entrance of the cave. Once they were inside, the floor of the cave was flat and sandy, and clear of obstructions since the fallen rocks had not rolled into the cave very far. In turn they lit their torches and held them up to get a view of the cave. Collectively they let out a gasp of surprise.

The cave was enormous; perhaps fifty feet high, and as long and wide as they could see in the small light of their torches – the weak light did not reach the walls. Stalagmites and stalactites formed columns down one side of their view, and sand covered the level floor. But their attention was drawn to the centre of the cave. There, arranged in four neat rows, were four lines of upright pillars, perhaps fifteen feet high and slightly curved inwards from the base, so that the tops were closer together than the bases. The shape brought something vaguely to Watson's mind, but in the gloom he could not be sure. However, around and about the pillars, the sand glinted here and there in the light of their torches.

In the centre of the rows of pillars was a flat topped, box-like structure. Perhaps three feet high, and the same wide and deep, it was surrounded and covered by seaweed. But as they drew closer there were signs of recent activity. On the side facing the cave entrance, the seaweed had been cut away to reveal the timber underneath. Falconer gasped, "It looks like a tomb..."

"But a very small tomb nonetheless, wouldn't you say?" replied Holmes. "I think there has been a misunderstanding. This ..." and as he said the words, he waved his hands to indicate the cave around them, ".... is the tomb of King Arthur."

"This cave...?" started Watson, but was interrupted by a new voice.

"Very well done," echoed the voice from above them. Looking up, they saw a ledge which formed almost a natural gallery, overlooking the cave below. The figure was carrying a torch, but as this was lowered, Watson gave out a cry of amazement as recognition dawned.

"But that's impossible...You're ... you're dead!"

A cruel laugh filled the cave with noise. "Of course I am, Doctor. Mr Holmes, welcome. Dead, yes. That's what you'd like, isn't it? That's what you planned, wasn't it?"

Holmes seemed unsurprised by this development. "It was not planned. You brought it on yourself. You know I had nothing to do with it."

"Nothing!?" shrieked the voice, which Watson now recognised as a woman's. "I saw you. You gave the signal. The signal to kill me."

"But I gave you a choice. My words were, if I recall, along the lines that you always have a choice, and that even at the point we had reached you didn't have to go through with your plan. I even asked you to consider the lives you would save. I was," he continued, "thinking of your own amongst those others you were threatening."

There was silence for a moment. Then the woman replied, "Yes, you did ... that is true. But you had brought the police with you. You planned to kill me all along. You didn't like to think you had been outwitted."

"I beg to differ," replied Holmes, calmly. "I took no enjoyment from what happened. But you know I could not let you carry out your plan." He drew himself to his full height. "Miss Mary Wilcox, where is Benjamin Falconer?"

She looked coldly down on them from the high ledge. Then - "Falconer!"

They turned around, expecting to see the young man. Instead there was silence, unless it was the sound of the sea drawing ever closer to the cave entrance. Then slowly, Lord Falconer reached into his overcoat, and pulled out a gun.

"No!" shouted Holmes, "don't do it! We need her."

Mary Wilcox laughed. "Oh, Mr Holmes, I am so disappointed in you. It's just like eighteen months ago, when you were on the deck of the Olive in Portsmouth Harbour, looking down the barrel of Master Newman's gun as I was about to sink the Dreadnought! The bullet is not for me. It is for you!"

With horror Watson saw the gun turned towards him and Holmes. Falconer's face broke into a smile. "My lady..." he said. "I have done my part. My son ... he is safe, as you said?"

Miss Wilcox smiled coldly. "Yes, he is safe. But first, Falconer, please do your job."

"With pleasure, Miss Wilcox," he replied with a smile.

Two shots rang out in the darkness.