The King of Scotland's Sword

by Sir Steve Stevenson

  She ran to the kitchen, where a mug of hot tea and fragrant blueberry scones were waiting for her.

  There was no sign of Dash. Agatha rolled her eyes.

  “Chandler?” she called toward the pantry. “Looks like somebody overslept for a change. Do you want to wake him this time or should I?”

  A tap on the window surprised her. She turned to see Chandler outside, holding a gas tank for a hot-air balloon in his giant hands and sweating like a fountain. “If you’re looking for Master Dash,” he said, “he left a note saying he’s gone into town for a meeting.”

  “A meeting?” she echoed. “Who is he meeting at eight in the morning?”

  “I really couldn’t say, Miss Agatha,” Chandler said diplomatically.

  Agatha was astonished. Her lazy cousin was up, dressed, and at a mysterious meeting? It was unbelievable! He’d just better get back home in time for their trip.

  Agatha ate breakfast quickly, pulled on her clothes, and hurried out to the airfield with Watson trailing a few steps behind. The balloon launch was in a large meadow surrounded by windswept hedges behind the house. Granddad Ian and Chandler had spread the nylon fabric of the balloon out on the ground next to the passenger basket, also known as a gondola. It was weighed down with sandbags and secured with ropes so they would be able to light the burners and fill the balloon with hot air.

  Agatha’s heart swelled with anticipation as she watched their preparations. The hot-air balloon was enormous, with panels divided into yellow segments.

  “Did you see what I called my latest invention?” her grandfather called out in a welcoming tone, beckoning Agatha closer. He took her hand and led her onto the deflated balloon. The yellow fabric rippled under their feet, and when they got to the center, she noticed the writing in red block letters: MISTERY BALLOON.

  “You made us a family balloon!” Agatha beamed. “Granddad, it’s beautiful!”

  “It will be even more beautiful up in the sky above the Highlands,” said Ian Mistery with a smile, proudly hooking his thumbs under the suspenders he wore beneath his tweed jacket. “Everyone will wave at us as we pass by!”

  Just then, Agatha spotted a bicycle shooting like a rocket down the path from the village. She knew it was Dash when he bumped over a rock and swerved into a tree, yelling “Ow!” so loudly that she knew he was fine.

  Dash jumped off the broken bike and ran toward them, waving his arms.

  “Hold everything!” he yelled. “Don’t inflate that balloon!”

  Calm as ever, Chandler asked, “What has happened, Master Dash?”

  Dash was too winded to speak, but held up his EyeNet.

  “His school must be sending him on a new mission,” sighed Agatha. “I knew our trip to the Highlands was going to get sidetracked.” A moment later, her smile returned as she asked, “So, Granddad, have you ever been part of an investigation?”

  The atmosphere at the airfield was suddenly charged with purpose. Still panting, Dash announced that their destination had changed. Instead of heading north toward the Highlands, they’d be traveling up the eastern coast of Scotland.

  “We’d better take the Jeep, not the limo,” he said, rubbing his injured elbow. “We have to get to a castle near Aberdeen, and the road’s very winding.”

  “A castle? That’s pretty ironic,” joked Agatha. “Didn’t you say they were boring?”

  “Not anymore,” said Dash. “Take a look.” He hit a series of keys on his EyeNet and showed them the message from Eye International.

  AGENT DM14

  PRECIOUS HISTORIC ARTIFACT STOLEN FROM DUNNOTTAR CASTLE, ABERDEEN, AT 8:35 A.M. GO THERE IMMEDIATELY AND SOLVE THE MYSTERY ASAP, OR YOU’LL GET A FAILING GRADE. DETAILS IN THE ATTACHED FILE.

  Granddad Ian knew that Dash was enrolled in a detective school, but he had no idea the students’ exams were real investigations. He was also beginning to sense that Agatha followed her cousin on his various missions around the world. These two children were Misteries through and through, always ready for an adventure!

  Agatha was arguing with Dash about which car would be faster. Ian cleared his throat with a small cough to attract their attention. “With the wind at our backs, the hot-air balloon will take us to Dunnottar Castle in no time,” he said with a grin. Dash’s and Agatha’s jaws dropped as he added, “You’re in a hurry, yes?”

  Dash looked up at the cloudless sky. “How long will it take?” he asked doubtfully. “Will we get there by noon?”

  A wry smile appeared above Granddad Ian’s white beard. “Dear Grandson, I know a thousand shortcuts up there in the clouds,” he said proudly. “Unless you’d rather share those winding back roads with tour buses, farmers, and stray herds of sheep. What do you think?”

  There was a split second of indecision, broken by Agatha’s gleeful voice. “I’m convinced, Granddad,” she exclaimed. “Come on, Dash. Let’s check out that file while they fill the balloon!”

  Without missing a beat, their grandfather put his tweed jacket on the ground, rolled up his shirtsleeves, and began to work enthusiastically. “Let’s get this balloon up as soon as we can!” he urged Chandler. “Fire up the gas jets!”

  “As you wish, Mr. Mistery,” the butler replied promptly.

  As soon as they started to burn the propane gas, the balloon started to fill with warm air. It looked like a yellow cake rising inside an oven.

  In the meantime, the two cousins ran to their grandfather’s study to use his computer. The walls were covered with portraits and photographs of relatives who seemed to be looking over the cousins’ shoulders.

  “I feel like I’m being watched,” said Dash, shifting uneasily.

  He was always a little high-strung, but nothing made him more nervous than a detective-school exam.

  To calm him down, Agatha took charge as usual. She searched through the file, printing out everything she wanted to study while they were aloft. “This is a big pile of pages,” she commented happily. “Now let’s watch your pre-mission briefing!”

  Dash looked as if he’d just woken up from a nightmare. “Oh yeah, right!” he exclaimed. He perched on Granddad’s desk chair and studied the screen, with Agatha peering over his shoulder.

  They both expected to see the mustached professor of Investigation Techniques, but instead, the screen filled with the image of an extremely thin woman with an ostrich-like neck, long eyelashes, and a fluffy mane of reddish hair.

  The young detective swallowed in shock. It was Agent MD38, the school principal! This must be really urgent!

  “Good morning, detective,” the woman began. “As you already know, we’ve been contacted with an emergency. You are the closest agent to the scene, therefore your mission is of utmost importance.” Dash swallowed hard as Agent MD38 quickly grabbed her own EyeNet. “Listen carefully. Early this morning, during the opening of an exhibition at Dunnottar Castle, the ancestral sword of the king of Scotland was stolen. Do you know what that is, Agent DM14?”

  Dash turned to his cousin. “Please tell me you’ve got it stored in one of your famous memory drawers.”

  Agatha nodded yes, furiously scrawling notes in her notebook.

  The principal’s voice sounded urgent. “This case is especially puzzling,” she said. “All the guests at the opening fell into a deep sleep at exactly the same time, and when they woke up, the sword had vanished. You’ll find a full list of guests and staff in your file. Eye International was informed at once, before the police. They don’t want the press to find out and start spreading rumors. No one has left the scene of the crime.” She paused, looking serious. “Agent DM14, you must find the culprit and recover the sword by sundown. The agency’s reputation is on the line. Make it work!”

  The principal’s face disappeared in a flash of purple light, as though she were a genie in a lamp.

  “Your teachers are always so…colorful,” Agatha said with a grin. Then she noticed that Dash looked frozen in terror.

  “This case is too hard for a newbie lik
e me!” he sputtered. “I should never have turned on my EyeNet this morning. I’m such a jerk! I could still be hanging out with Dorothy instead of stuck in a wide world of trouble! I’m gonna be sick…”

  “Don’t panic, Dash!” Agatha interrupted. “We’ll solve this mystery, you’ll see!”

  He blinked. “Do you really think so?”

  “Of course,” she assured him. “You can count on me. And Chandler and Granddad.” She peered out the window, slipping the file pages into her purse. “Hey, look, the balloon is inflated!” Agatha grabbed her cousin by his wool sweater sleeve, dragging him out to the airfield.

  The cousins climbed the steps into the gondola of the hot-air balloon and sat side by side on a tiny passenger bench. Chandler, who took up a full bench by himself, asked politely, “May we ascend now, Miss?”

  Agatha nodded, excited. Dash gulped as Granddad Ian cast off the ropes, turned the flame up high, and took the controls as the balloon slowly started to rise.

  They had begun the most exciting part of the voyage. Everyone held their breath as they watched the landscape below, its green fields crisscrossed by stone fences. The cars on the lanes looked like miniature toys. Dash peered down at the village, wondering if Aileen had finished her haggis without him.

  When the Mistery Balloon reached the right altitude to take advantage of the wind currents that would carry them northeast, Agatha turned to her cousin. “So, who is this Dorothy you’d rather be hanging out with than solving a case? If you don’t mind my asking.”

  “Um, no one. Just a friend from when I was a kid,” replied Dash, his face the color of a tomato.

  His cousin winked at him. “Old friend, not new girlfriend?”

  “What do you take me for?” Dash bristled. “I’m a model detective!”

  “Well then, model detective, you better keep your mind on the case,” she teased him. “We need every inch of your precious brain!”

  Chandler and Granddad Ian struggled to hold back their laughter.

  As the balloon soared north past the capital city of Edinburgh, over the Firth of Forth, and into the Scottish countryside, the detectives pored over the files. Dash studied his EyeNet, and Agatha passed printout pages to Chandler as soon as she read them.

  “You mentioned the king of Scotland’s ancestral sword,” said Granddad Ian. “Which king and what sword? I’ve lived here for decades, but there’s so much history.”

  Agatha tapped the tip of her nose with her finger, concentrating. “It’s a claymore belonging to Robert the Bruce, the warrior who freed the Scots from English rule in the Middle Ages. If my memory serves, he was king of Scotland from 1306 till—”

  “What’s a claymore?” Dash interrupted.

  “A two-handed broadsword with a cross-shaped hilt and a short, powerful blade. It was the Scottish clans’ traditional weapon. Like the ones you saw in Braveheart, though of course those were facsimiles…”

  Without a word, Chandler handed Dash a photo.

  “Thanks, Chandler,” said Agatha. “A picture is worth a thousand words.”

  Their grandfather leaned over to study the photo. “Magnificent workmanship. Look at that hilt. Are those decorations bronze? There’s no sign of oxidization,” he noted. “How much is this heirloom worth?”

  “Its value is mostly symbolic,” replied Agatha. “According to the experts, it represents the unification of all the Scottish clans under one flag.”

  “So you don’t think the thief wanted money?” Dash asked.

  Agatha shook her head pensively. “It’s too soon to tell,” she sighed. She turned to Chandler. “Could I see that guest list again?” He handed it to her, and she quickly scanned the list of people attending the opening and their professional affiliations. “Looks like a lot of people who are passionate about antiques attended this event,” she reflected. “So before we figure out a motive, we need to turn our attention to other details.”

  “Such as?” Dash prompted.

  She paused for a moment, scratching Watson’s ears as she contemplated the view below. The balloon was sailing above endless moors and small lakes, and the coastal town of Dundee could be seen in the distance. “What else do we have in the file?” she asked.

  Chandler flipped through the pages, summarizing their contents in his usual few words: the history of the castle, short bios of the organizing committee and invited guests, and the transcript of the phone call made by the castle’s director to Eye International. There was also a map of the castle grounds and some satellite images.

  Dash nervously checked the time on his EyeNet.

  “We’ll study all these in detail and come up with a plan,” proposed Agatha. “But first things first. What about something to eat?”

  For the first time, Dash grinned. “Now you’re talking!”

  “I must confess, I’m a bit hungry myself,” said Chandler.

  Granddad Ian opened a picnic basket, passing out sandwiches. “Cheddar or marmalade?”

  “Both!” said Dash happily.

  The balloon floated over the rugged North Sea coast. Dash and Agatha gazed down at stone cliffs lashed by waves, sandy beaches, and harbor-seal colonies sunning on rocks. Granddad Ian kept his eye on the altimeter, adjusting their height to take advantage of more favorable winds. As promised, it was a speedy trip. “We’ll be landing within half an hour,” he announced with pride.

  During the trip, all four passengers in the Mistery Balloon had pored over the files, exchanging opinions on what might have happened.

  “Let’s reconstruct the scene of the crime one last time,” said Agatha. “The castle doors opened just after eight. By eight fifteen, everyone at the opening fell into a deep sleep, as if they had all inhaled chloroform. Everyone, that is, except for Ms. Ross, the personal assistant of the antiques dealer who organized the exhibition. She had exited the castle to look for the purse she’d left in her car. When she came back twenty minutes later, the king of Scotland’s sword was gone and there were thirty people on the floor, fast asleep.”

  “When the guests came to, they reported strange dreams full of apparitions and sinister sounds,” Dash continued. “To avoid a scandal in the press, the castle’s director contacted Eye International instead of the police.”

  “And to assist with the investigation, he forbade anyone to leave the castle till sundown,” Chandler concluded.

  Dash frowned at the thought. “That would be right,” he sighed. “If we don’t solve the case before dark, I can kiss my detective career good-bye!”

  No one knew what to say to that. The balloon had begun its descent, and suddenly, they were surrounded by thick, misty clouds. It was like passing through a giant cotton ball that hid the castle from view.

  This gave Granddad Ian an idea. “What if the sword is still inside the castle, but hidden away in some secret room?” he hypothesized. “Or maybe the thief hid it inside a crevice or cave in the cliffs?”

  “That would be awesome!” Dash sounded hopeful. “Maybe we should focus on finding the sword, and figure out who stole it after we’ve gotten it back.”

  Agatha’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “I just had a brainstorm!” she exclaimed, beaming.

  Knowing her well, Dash asked bluntly, “What is it?”

  Agatha stood up and started to pace in the limited space of the gondola, her head bowed and her index finger raised high. “I have a plan that might do the trick. It requires a bit of subterfuge.”

  Everybody stared at her, intrigued.

  “What sort of subterfuge, Miss Agatha?” Chandler asked calmly.

  She clasped her hands, rubbing her palms together. “What do you say we put on a performance?” she said. “Each of us will need to play a part.”

  Dash grinned. “Trust you to come up with something creative!”

  But his smile didn’t last long. Agatha explained their roles. Granddad Ian would play the part of the world-famous detective, Chandler would be his menacing bodyguard, and she and Dash would be bumbl
ing apprentices.

  “Why should I be an apprentice?” Dash groaned. “Especially a bumbling one?”

  “Take a look at your outfit,” said Agatha, casting her eyes up and down. “You look like a farmhand!”

  While their Granddad laughed heartily, Dash covered his face in embarrassment. In their hurry to leave, he’d forgotten to change out of the scruffy clothes he’d picked for his meeting with Aileen.

  “I don’t understand,” said Chandler. “Why are we playing these roles, Miss Agatha?”

  “To create a diversion,” she replied promptly. “While Granddad—the famous detective—interrogates all thirty guests, no one will pay any attention to me and Dash, searching the castle grounds for evidence—and the sword. You’ll keep the guests in line. They’ll be tired by now, and they’ll be trying to leave the castle, but I’m sure you can figure out how to make them stay put…,” she said, giving Chandler a wink.

  After a few more details, they were all convinced that Agatha’s strategy was ingenious. She drafted a list of questions for her grandfather to ask the witnesses, while Chandler studied the list of invited guests, and Dash pored over the map. They were concentrating so hard that they didn’t realize they were right above Dunnottar Castle.

  They heard shouted greetings below and leaned out over the edge to look down. A breathtaking sight met their eyes. The walled castle consisted of several buildings: a rugged stone tower, a stately manor house, and various ruins, all perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea. There was only one entrance, a narrow road winding up from rolling hills to the steep, lonely headland. There were rows of cars parked in a field by the roadside.

  Dunnottar Castle’s reputation was well-deserved. It really did seem impregnable.

  Granddad Ian pulled out his pocket watch. “Noon on the dot.” He beamed. “We made perfect time, just as I promised!”

  The children congratulated him as he prepared to land.

  A group of people clustered in the grassy square in the center of the castle grounds. Agatha noticed that they all wore elegant clothes befitting an exhibition opening; some of the men even wore traditional kilts. The only detail that surprised her was the police car parked on the side of the road, just outside the castle walls.