The Sword Excalibur

 

I was with the king that morning, serving as his squire and baggage boy. He was still sorely wounded from his fight with Pellinore, although he complained not. He even joked about the scolding he'd be getting from the armorer for the damage to his chainmail.

We stayed at the cottage of a wise woman, and she worked with herbs and salves, tending his hurts for three days. When the king had recovered some, he paid her two gold coins and left. I was glad to be free of the warm, close air filled with the sharp odor of garlic and boiling ointments.

We rode more slowly than usual, but at least we were back in the fresh air. The king, I noted long ago, was not fond of inaction. Nor was I, and I think he liked me for it. Merlin, his unblinking adviser, was the opposite. He seemed content to sit still all day and just read. I cannot imagine a more tiresome task.

As we rode, the king said, "I have no sword. A king without a sword? It will not do."

"Then we shall fetch you one, sire," Merlin said.

We rode on for no more than a mile when Merlin called a stop near to a pond. We dismounted and, since the water was clear and cold, we watered the horses who drank with gusto. A deserted stone cottage stood some ways off.

"By the gods, Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed, pointing at the pond. "What is this devilry?"

In the middle of the lake, we saw a damsel's arm clothed in white samite. She held a sword pointing straight up.

"Devilry, my lord? It is the Lady of the Lake. She has been known to bestow gifts on those with a pure heart," Merlin replied with a crafty grin.

With those words, we saw the entire damsel emerge from the waters, yet she looked dry. She carried the sword as easily as a willow wand, though it was a daunting weapon.

"She will come to you, sire," Merlin said. "Treat her fair, and you may benefit."

The Lady of the Lake approached the king and bowed in the manner of a knight, foregoing a lady's dainty curtsey. Her hair was the color of river sand, and her eyes were as blue as a trout's back.

"My lady," the king said. "What sword is that you carry so well? I have lost my sword fighting the enemies of the land, and I am in sore need."

"Good sir," the damsel replied, "that sword is mine, and it be called Excalibur. But I will make it yours if you will give me a gift when I ask it of you."

"By my honor, I will give you whatever gift you will ask."

She handed him the sword with another knightly bow. "I will ask for my gift when the time is ripe." Then she strode into the pond and vanished.

He gazed at it closely, his face like stone, like a man meeting his child for the first time.

"Tell me, my lord," Merlin said. "What suits your desire: the sword or the scabbard?"

"The sword, of course," said Arthur with a flourish. "It is like a feather in my hand."

"Then tend to this wisdom. Truly, the scabbard is worth ten swords. While you wear the scabbard upon your belt, you shall never lose a drop of blood."

We rode on to Camelot, and the knights sent up a great cheer as we arrived. When Merlin told of his trials and battles, they marveled that one so high born would jeopardize his person like a normal man-at-arms.

From then onward, both in public and private, the knights sang his praises, rejoicing to be under a chieftain who would live as rough as other poor knights did.

Art and text (c)Mickey Kulp, October 2022

Inspired by "Le Morte D’Arthur, Volume I (of II)" by Thomas Malory; written in 1470; printed by William Caxton in 1485.