Mordred's answering smile was small.
"Yes..." he said, surveying Russell's outstretched arms with amusement, "I seem to have been blessed with a veritable wealth of brothers. I'm a lucky man." Turning his back on the cell he scanned the room until he located the guard stool in the corner. Mordred fetched it, set it down on the cobbles and sat down, crossing one leg over the other.
"I'm also lucky enough to have been blessed with a front door," he continued, his charming smile pinned back in place, "and a secretary. If you had used the front door you would have met him. Nice bloke, actually, and he would have helped you make an appointment to see me, or the king." Mordred's smile broadened. "That way, you would have avoided being discovered in the middle of a crime scene. I know, I know protocol is a pain in the arse but sometimes it can save everyone involved an awful lot of trouble."

You couldn't blame a fool for trying. Russell's entire story had been beautifully crafted by an obviously well-practiced mind. Mordred however didn't believe in such neatly wrapped coincidences, and this particular example came complete with a silver bow and winning smile. He knew how far a smile like that could get you. And yet, even the most carefully woven tale could unravel; you just needed to find out where to pull. He neither doubted nor cared that Russell was his half-brother. It wasn't a stretch to believe that one of Mallos' many children might have fallen into the kind of criminal activity that lands people in the royal gaol.
"I wonder if you could just explain a few more things for me?" Mordred continued, "then we can see about getting you out of here. Then the next time you come to visit, you'll know exactly how a front door works, won't you?"

He shifted in his seat, unfolding his long legs and leaning forwards a little, his forearms resting along his thighs, and his elbows supporting his weight.
"You seem like an intelligent person," Mordred began, "I wonder then, why it didn't occur to you that a royal palace would have guards who would not take kindly to intruders entering the Castle through...shall we say, more covert, entrances?" He tilted his head a little to the left and waited, his blue eyes bright.

"I wonder also, why you didn't share the story you've just told me with the guards who arrested you as soon as you were apprehended? Why try, and temporarily succeed, to escape from custody, putting on an wonderfully theatrical performance in the process I might add, instead of just explaining the error immediately? And how does an ordinary man with no malicious or criminal intentions come to know how to pick the lock of the door to a cell which is, by the way, especially designed to prevent just that?" Again Mordred paused, allowing his words to sink in and giving Russell the chance to compose another winning explanation.

"Forgive me, brother" he pressed, his tone retaining its light and pleasant note, "but when you look at it from my perspective, can you not understand why I might be a little suspicious? I find myself searching for a missing pile of jewellery and all I have is you; a mystery wrapped in an enigma."


Mordred
_{the darkness will rise from the deep}