by Keshia Rogers
"In conclusion: If there was a King Arthur, he was not a king, his name was not Arthur, and he did not have knights. Turn in your creative writing assignments, and I'll see you on Wednesday."
Professor Ryan Schmidt hopped off the edge of his desk just as the clock struck 12:20. Perfect timing. It wasn't that he didn't encourage comments in class, but every semester some romantic dreamer wanted to argue that Arthur was a real person. By the time people reach college, they should be old enough to let go of such childish fantasies, but, as he saw it, that was not his problem.
Professor Schmidt's problem was that he promised to have forty-three creative writing assignments graded by Wednesday. It was almost midnight when he finally reached the last paper. The English department had been empty for several hours, and the buzzing fluorescent lights were about to drive Ryan out of his mind. At least this was the last one. He looked at the name in the top corner and groaned: Erlin, Mark. "Just great. The guy who can't even manage to stay awake through class," he thought. "At least this won't take long." He picked up his red pen and started reading.
I knew Arthur was special, but I didn't know how special. I can still remember the night that he became the king.
"Interesting use of the first person," Ryan half-mumbled. "Maybe this won't be so bad." That was his last thought before something hit him- hard.
"Kai! You idiot, watch where you're going!"
It was the night before Pentecost and Kai was drunk again. All of the nobles had gathered for the feast tomorrow, and Kai just had to cause trouble. He spun around, ready to punch whoever had just insulted him. Nevermind that he had just knocked over the entire table. Kai was a big guy, and insulting him usually meant trouble. But the only thing he hit was the floor. He slipped in the mead he had just spilled and fell. When the crowd dared to roar with laughter he went for his sword, only to find that his fall had split the hilt.
"Art! Arthur! What do you think you're doing? Did I give you permission to do as you please? Get me a new sword."
"But, Kai, it's late, and besides that it's..."
"NOW!"
It made my blood boil to see that buffoon treat Arthur like a common servant. He was his foster-brother after all. But Arthur scampered out of the tavern to fetch his brother a sword. At least it was the last time Kai ever acted like Arthur was his personal slave.
I had never experienced total silence in a tavern. But that's what happened when Arthur came back holding Excalibur. Arthur was the only one in the room who did not know about that sword. Of course, he was only fifteen. That sword had been in the churchyard as long as he'd been alive.
Some people immediately knelt before their king. Others started yelling and threatening to kill him for treason or some nonsense. Poor Arthur just stood there, stunned. I grabbed him and dragged him out of the tavern before anyone could stop us. We ducked into an old building and I explained the legend of Excalibur as quickly as I could:
"When Uther Pendragon died, he left no legitimate heir, but there was a rumor that he had a son. The country was almost torn apart by men claiming to be the rightful king. And then Excalibur appeared. Nobody knows quite how. But the inscription on the hilt said that only the true king could pull it from the stone in the churchyard. Men from all over the kingdom tried, but none succeeded. Until tonight. You are Uther's son Arthur. You are the King of Brittany."
At first I was afraid that Arthur was not ready for everything that I had told him. But he surprised me. After the initial shock wore off, he stepped into his new role as if he had never thought to do anything else. And it is a good thing he caught on so quickly. There were a few minor lords who had to be "convinced" to follow Arthur, but he put down the rebellions quickly.
The real challenge was the Saxons. As soon as they heard Brittany had a king once again, they began their attack. Arthur had a hard time rallying people to fight with him. Most of the lords did not want to send their warriors to fight under the guidence of a boy. But on the battle-field Arthur proved that he was no child. He killed more than three hundred Saxons himself. Kai, of course, took credit for his foster-brother's superior battle training. Others took Arthur's prowess as proof that he was, indeed, Uther's heir. But from that point on, no man was ashamed to bow to King Arthur.
Professor Schmidt sat up with a start. He had felt Kai knock over that table. He could still hear the clash of metal from the battle. "That's it, Ryan, no more grading papers after ten o'clock at night." He grabbed his coat and locked up his office after writing a quick "A" on the last paper. "Not bad, Mark." As he walked out to his car he couldn't help but checking to make sure there were no Saxons following him.
Author's note: I tried to stick with the familiar storyline of the Sword in the Stone for my first tale. One major change is that I did not use the word "knight." In this storybook I want to present a more historically authentic version of the Arthur stories than many people are used to hearing. Since men did not fight on horses in the time period most closely associated with King Arthur, mounted knights should not appear in legends about him. There were, however, great warriors who fought on foot. In the original story, Kai broke his sword in a tournament. I changed the scene to a tavern to avoid using the knight image. Arthur's past will become more clear in later stories. Since he did not know that he was the king, he had a lot of family that he did not know. For those who have read my blog and know that I am in an Arthurian Legends class I would like to say that it is not a creative writing class and my professor is not Ryan Schmidt.
Bibliography: The Age of Fable: The Age of Chivalry, by Thomas Bulfinch, published 1913
Image: Sword in the Stone from Flickdirect
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