Dying Fall

Lytham.
    ‘I wanted some information,’ she says.
    ‘Oh.’ Max’s voice changes. ‘Of course.’
    She explains about the isotope results. Excitement of a different kind begins to creep into Max’s voice.
    ‘There were some skeletons excavated in a Romano-British cemetery outside York. I don’t think they did DNA tests but the limb proportions and skeletal facial features appeared to point to the men being black African. Also there was a North African legion stationed at Hadrian’s Wall. They were from Morocco, I think. They found African DNA in the local populations around Hadrian’s Wall which suggests that the soldiers intermarried with the local people. It was actually Septimus Severus who made it legal for serving legionnaires to get married.’
    ‘So our man could maybe have been the son of one of those soldiers?’
    ‘It’s possible, yes.’ She can almost hear Max’s mind working. ‘Maybe his father went back to Rome with the legions. Our man could have been trained by his father in Roman cavalry arts and gone on to become a war leader, defending his people against the Picts. Those communities must have felt very vulnerable after the Romans withdrew.’
    ‘So King Arthur could have been black or mixed race?’
    ‘Why not? That could be the reason for all the mythology around him, the suggestion that he was different,somehow “other”. It could even account for the Raven King legend.’
    ‘Because ravens are black?’
    ‘Exactly.’
    ‘I wish we still had the bones,’ says Ruth. ‘Then we’d know for sure.’
    ‘How are the investigations going?’
    ‘Slowly.’ She doesn’t tell him about Pendragon or about the increasingly threatening text messages. In turn, Max doesn’t offer to come up to Lytham. After a few further archaeological exchanges they say goodbye.
    Ruth turns to find both Cathbad and Thing staring at her.
    ‘Max says there were African Romans in the north of Britain,’ she says. ‘There was even an African legion at Hadrian’s Wall. King Arthur could have been the son of one of those legionnaires.’
    ‘How are things with Max?’ asks Cathbad.
    *
    Much later, after Cathbad and Kate are both in bed, Ruth goes back to Dan’s diaries.
    10 May 2010
    Excavation day. I went to the site early to watch the sun go up. So beautiful over the river with the birds flying in from the sea. Made me wish I could paint or sing or something. The others turned up at nine and I started excavating the bones. I still felt bad removing them from theirgrave but I felt that I had made my peace with King Arthur last night. I felt that he understood.
    Clayton determined to do it all by the book. Lots of people watching – Guy, Elaine, Sue Chow, some old dears from LAS. It was a bit of a shock to see Pippa there. Why did she come? It’s not as if she has any interest in archaeology. We didn’t speak but once or twice I saw Elaine looking over as if she suspected something. Clayton was oblivious, though. All he cared about was whether the local press had got wind of it. For some reason, he wants it all kept quiet until we know for sure. It’ll make a bigger splash then, I suppose.
    Oh my God, my first sight of the fully exposed skeleton! He looked so kingly and peaceful, lying on his back, hands crossed over his chest. I heard Guy mutter ‘Jesus’ and even Sue seemed moved. I lifted out the head – the skull is complete, lovely nuchal crest, large mastoid bones, heavy brow ridges. He was a fine, strong man. Beautiful eye orbits, almost rectangular, wide nasal cavity, adult teeth all erupted. I looked at it for so long that Clayton started to get impatient, reminding me that it was imperative to get the excavation completed by the end of the day.
    When it was all done – all the bones numbered and bagged, recording sheets complete, bone and teeth samples taken for analysis – I wanted to take him back to Pendle. Actually, what I really wanted was to take him home but (wisely) I didn’t say this. Then Guy said that the bones should go to the CNN lab in Blackpool. He has contacts there, apparently. I thought Guy was becoming too obsessed with the White Hand and said so. We shouldn’t let ourselvesbe dictated to by a bunch of fascist lunatics. But Clayton agreed with him so Guy drove the Raven King to the lab. I hated to see him go.
    Ruth looks up from her laptop. It’s dark outside; the house is silent. She can recognise so many things in the diaries – the thrill of