Arthur cast aside the gladius with anger. He had just battle with some outlaws on the plains. It was a simple fight with peasants turned outlaws but the fight was long and carelessness stepped into his moves. He had found himself short in reach compared to the longer sword of the others. Lancelot had discarded his sword for the long one he was then its master. Lancelot had adopted well to his sword and displayed fine skills with it.
“Be off now.” Lancelot kicked at the fallen outlaw. He had dis-armed the person with his gifted sword. The fallen outlaw rolled over and then took off on his feet. Lancelot looked to the others who had flee the scene leaving only him and Arthur. He saw the other tossed the gladius.
“A fighter does not blame the weapon when he is below par.” Lancelot gloated on his win. Arthur glared at the other. It was not the fight that distracted him but the woes of being a leader for Camelot. Unlike in the Legion, he had the numbers too but they were disciplined and more to it, they work without questions. Above all, all of them swore loyalty to the eagle banner. All the Legions held their Eagle as revered symbol in their columns. No legionnaires will let the eagle touched the ground.
“The gladius was a great sword but I find myself uncomfortable with it.” Arthur looked down before he sighed. “I have fought with that weapon for years and lately I felt as if I am not comfortable with it. If it was as if we were never together.”
“Use mine.” Lancelot offered his sword. “I do want it back when you are done.”
Arthur refused the offer and then went to look for his horse. During his ride, his mind was floating on the recent events. He had garnered himself the land’ a sizeable one and with the wealth his castle was taking form. The main towers on the cliff were completed and the main hall was done. The walls on the inner circle were half done and so were the outer walls. He has a hundred men building his castle with Merlin in lead. There were some skirmishes with the other smaller lords or the recalcitrant outlaws. He had defeated them all with his knights and for some he sent the knights to deal at their own camp. Lancelot and Percival have built their own homes outside of Camelot. It was all fine except that Arthur himself was in a depression.
“Arthur, I was looking for you.” It was Merlin who rode up to him. Arthur told the druid that he was busy then. “Chasing always sheep robbers should be left your knights or the guards you have hired.”
Arthur shook his head. He knew he has to act proper like a Centurion and not a low ranked legionnaire. It was his misgiving that he felt the loss of his ability.
“You need reinforcement. I know of what that could helped you.” Merlin told the other. “Follow me. I will take you there.”
Merlin rode off without waiting for a reply. Arthur despite his weariness followed the druid. The ride was long into the dark and then they camped by the river stream. Arthur rested by the banks while Merlin started the fireplace. In the morning, Arthur was awaken by the druid.
“We will walk now.” The druid proceeded along the stream until they came to a fork. The stream end at a river and its current was fast. The druid stopped there and then proceeded along the river with Arthur in tow. The walk along the river bank was shorter then passed the trees and bushes. Arthur saw the creatures there at the river will scot off to the protection to the forest when they came by. Then they chanced on a waterfall cascading from the river over the cliff. The druid motioned to Arthur towards the river. In the center of the river just before the fall was a huge boulder. It towered over the river currents and moss grew thick on the sides. On the top of the boulder was the hilt of a sword.
“Whose pullet out this sword from this stone, is right wise King born of all England.” Merlin called out. “I bring thee the worthy champion here now.”
With that Merlin motioned to Arthur that he was to step out there.
“You heard of the legend. Here is the sword that many have tried to move and yet none had done it.” Merlin looked to Arthur. “You, my Lord can do it. You are its rightful King of all Albion.”
“Albion? What name is that? This is Provicia Britannia. I will not have my life be place at stake for what may be a stone.” Arthur replied. “Enough of your fables, druid. I am leaving.”
“Do so at your own peril, my Lord.” Merlin uttered out. “I believed you are to do the task.”
Arthur found himself looking to the tree line and felt as if he was watched by the shadows behind it. He reached for his gladius and then recalled that he had tossed it away. He was left only with his other weapon; the pugio or the dagger. The druid approached him and told him that it was the only way out for him.
“The sword is yours as you are the rightful owner.” Arthur reluctant to the task made his way to the river. He stepped into the icy water and then waded across. The currents in the river were swift and a few times he stumbled when he tried to move over. He soon found himself by the boulder but there was another misgiving. His fingers could not find any hold on the boulder with the moss there. He picked at the moss and tore chunks off there. He then found the boulder had cracks and nicks which he could place his fingers in. He dug in deep and then began his climb. The climb was tedious with the river currents and then the fingers became numb form the cold. He tried to move on but the nerves there were getting tougher to move. He then felt the tinge on his fingers and saw the cracks or nick he was holding to was turning shades. It was from the stone gray to the blood shades of man. The bloody red cracks then vibrated then and it appeared to pull him up.
Soon Arthur right hand reached the hilt there and he held on tight. He pulled his weight forward and then with his left hand he clutched the next clump of moss to ease the climb. He then sat up on the boulder but his right hand did not leave the hilt. He held the hilt with both hands and then heaved it up.
The sword did not move.
Arthur released his hands in defeat but then he felt himself slipping off the boulder. He reached out to hold the hilt and then without realizing it, the sword moved inside the boulder. Arthur then saw the read shades slipping out of the stone as if it was the blood in the man’s vessel. He pulled at the sword and then slowly pulled it out. It was a long sword and he only got a quarter of its length out. He pulled himself up and then with slow motion, he pulled the length out. The blade reached his lower chest and with the hilt, it reached his heart. It was a long sword and the hilt was red in the shades with the stitches there with the silver lining.
“Raise it up.” Merlin shouted. Arthur raised it and held it over his head. With the sword upright, Arthur felt the weight of the sword. It was not lighter than the gladius but the weight of the sword was distributed through the blade to the hilt being the heavier end.
“Hail King Arthur.” Merlin shouted out.
With the sword, Arthur found himself with confidence and his skills of swordmanship crude then but he was improving. The sword also brought out the leadership in him and then more knights rallied to him.
The sword had given him an image.
He was then King of Albion.
So he thought.
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