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Hotel Kamalot stood proud, high on the windswept headland of Tintacil. Its windows looked out

over the tempest you're Celtic Sea. Morgan wandered down the long winding dry leading

up to the hotel. A structure certainly looked much more like a castle than it was in the

bed in breakfast. The four corners of Hotel Kamalot rose much taller than the rest of the

building. Each turret adorned with a Cornish flag waving in the breeze. At the top of the

hotel's four walls, the thick stone had been given a toothed effect. It was the sort of

thing you might find beautifully described in a fairy tale. But Morgan knew that historically

the uneven top to a castle was about far more than beauty. Long, long ago, the raised part

of the tooth-shaped parapet offered knights defending King and Country, a protected view

of the land. It was clear to Morgan that the stunning Hotel Kamalot had stood on this hilltop

surveying the coastline and guarding Arthur's ancient ruins for generations. But those decades

were not a scratch on the history of Tintagel Castle, the ruins of which stood on the rocky

cliff top behind Morgan. The castle had guarded this coastline from Saxon invaders for centuries.

That's why Morgan had come here to finally unravel the legend of King Arthur and see the

ruins he left behind. History was Morgan's greatest passion. She'd seen ruins all over the

world and watched the past crumbling away, worn down by the seasons, by tides and by

time. She'd watched the golden sunset over Mathew Peacher and seen it rise on a crisp

morning between the towering marble columns of the Parthenon in Athens.

...