Dark 37 Excalibur

1.

I never thought that one day I would have stayed in an old castle perched over a low cliff overlooking a small bay. It’s my inheritance as I am the last in the Belvedere lineage; a gift not of love but of family tradition that I am needed to continue to administrate the wealth of the family heirloom which unfortunately includes this castle in its will.

I have never been here before as my parents were estranged from the family soon for them to be left to stay away for over thirty-four years upon my birth. It was the time before my birth. If not for the family name that was attached to my Mother's name, I would not be standing there on this balcony looking at the incoming drift of the mist from the sea.

"Master Morgan, you must come in. The coldness of this land is not of that in London or Glasgow." The man reminded me of my two previous abodes during my young and then adult age. I looked over at the man who had just dragged me in literally from the balcony.

Matthew Arthur was the caretaker of the Castle and had been in his family care for generations. The man was tall and white-haired that he had it bound in a ponytail. He was dressed in his working uniform of the three-piece suit with the extra scarf due to the cold weathers. He was my father’s guardian until his departure from the castle. He was already into his eighties and yet he chose not to procreate the next generation for reasons he never disclosed to anyone. But despite his age, his bones still permitted him to mount the numerous stairs and walked the corridors of this place without much of a complaint. The faithful servant does not wait for my answer when he closed the Victorian glass doors.

"Victorian design in an old castle? Surely, Matthew. This is out of place even in this castle and only this room. I expected some Highlander design would be more suited."

The older man ignored my remarks. I had the company of him for only a week then, and yet I found him to accommodating for my liking. I was a free spirit in London, or anywhere. I may have decided to domicile my restless spirit against my will. I then shrugged my shoulder and walked towards the nearby coffee table. On it was a glass of whiskey set by the older man for me alongside the beautiful crystal glass bottle. That drink had been the trademark of the family business; it was named Camelot and was a tradition to take one after every meal including at breakfast. I picked up the glass and looked at the volume poured. It was not my ideal measurement and took a swig all of it. The drink warmed up my body from the evening coldness which was creeping up from the nearby lake. It was then I heard the glass door being latched.

“Arthur, is the castle haunted?” I poised the question to the older man. “I have weird sound in the corridors and at times at the windows. I think the sound was more like music from the sea.”

“An overactive imagination of yours, Master Morgan. The castle may be old but I am sure your forefathers will not scare you in the dark hours of the night. Even they themselves would have taken shelter in their own crypts for fear of the cold nights.”

“I hear the calling, Matthew…”

“The winds, Master Morgan. They are swift here and the walls have cracks which the wind may pass through and hence the calling you may had heard.” Matthew smiled. “Perhaps your grand paddy may be in it. He was an avid singer although his vocals were atrocious most times.”

I put on a smile for the old man’s remark but what I heard was not any calling of my parents or the ancestors. It sounded more like calls for help or at worse, eerie screeching to wake up even the dead. For myself, as a trained historian and being involved in several excavations of the burial site, the myth of ghosts does not scare me. I did not comment further for my intention to be there was only temporary. I have already advised my solicitors to put the castle on the market and worked out the compensation package for the staff including Matthew.

“Victorian? It must be an upgrade to this place? Was it my mother’s doing?” I changed the subject to keep the older man distracted from my other question.

"Aye, a refinement which your father did for your mum's stay here. She was of the London society and she vainly needed the feel of her old scene when he married your father. So, without hesitation, your father took to task on the works. They are brought from London at great expanses but your father's love for your mother would have spared all the pennies for her comfort. Her favorite room was here as she will knit her scarfs for your father while waiting for his return by boat to pick us up from London."

I remembered those scarfs she did for my father as it was her only pleasure then besides waiting for him. He does have a tendency of losing them at sea or where he was, as he is clumsy with his personal things. I remember when I was young, Mother used to rock me by the cradle as she knit. It never crossed my mind then that all my forefathers have perished at sea including my own father.

“This scarf was done by your mother for me. I have treasured it since then.” The older man was trying to impress me but I was soon moving to a new subject.

"Matthew, you been with us all your lifetime. Tell me how did my father die. And his father before him. I never got to know the whole version."

I had then poured my second glass and sat down comfortably in the same chair once occupied by my mother. Matthew looked at me with his cold stare and then mumbled to himself about the need to know what may be mine. I had researched my father’s death some years back but the news was all brief except for the part of the ship he was one was devoid of life when boarded. They found scenes of blood-curling killings and were linked to supernatural means. My father was seen hanging from the mainmast with his body desecrated with old verses. The killing was never resolved. There was one report that was not picked up by the major papers that spoke of the similarity on the death of my grandfather. He was not killed on the ship but in a nearby cottage. His body was found spread-eagled on the flooring with the old verses. I looked at the older man who was muttering to himself by the bookshelf next to the glass door.

"Matthew, please speak up. I am not of hard hearing but your voice is too low even for the rats in the castle who may fail to hear you too."

“Pardon me, Master Morgan. Your family death was never discussed among the staff. We reserved….” The older man was trying to evade my question.

“Matthew, I need to know. I am your Lord now.” I was insistent to know the truth or what they knew transpired then,

“Master Morgan, the past can bring up more pain than its conclusion.” Arthur was still evading my question but I insisted once more. The old servant walked along the bookshelf as if looking for a book. The shelf has been filled with books of my family generations and for the last twenty-five years of my absence, I believed it has seen more dust than readers to its pages. Arthur reached for a small thin volume book with the spine bounded by thick threads on the upper shelf. He took it down from the shelf and wiped it clean of the dust with the lapels of his jacket. He then walked to me with the book and handed it to me.

"It’s your family diary from the days of one of your ancestors; starting from the one who built this castle. It will tell you of the legacy and also of the curse that befalls all the male heir of the family." His voice all raspy was eerie to my ears then but I took no caution of it. “It may explain your father’s death and his father before him.”

I took the thin volume from his hands and placed it on my lap. I wanted to ask the man more of what he meant by my legacy but he was hurrying on the way out without a second glance. It was unbecoming of him, as he hardly left my side when I am here in the castle. I casually took another sip of my drink and snuggled my body comfortably on the armchair for what may be a long read. I reached for the book cover and then I heard a sound which I am most familiar with.

'Morgan LeFay Belvedere.... beware.... ~'

"Mother?" I stood up and looked around me.

It was her voice and yet she can't be here. No, I shook my head. It was the drink and the cold air which have given me the shivers at times. She can't be here and it was my mind playing the trick of me hearing her voice. She was laid to rest two years ago after a long battle with her illness. She spent thirty-six years of hardship while my father was at sea and it exerted on her health. Upon my birth, she was ill most times, and finally bed stricken the last three years. It was near her death that she told me to see the attorney of the family on my inheritance. When I consent to the task, she slipped that day from me.

I did as per her wish and it was from there I was made known of my inheritance. My mother hid me from my inheritance until her near-death hours and for that, I have harbored a rage in me for her selfish thoughts We were living on meager takings and yet riches beyond my dreams was there for me to use. That wealth would have paid for my education instead of relying on handouts and grants. I gave her the proper funeral rites and left London for here on the next day of her burial.

'The book.... beware.... ~'

It was my mind again. I took up the glass and gulped it all. If I was going to see ghosts, let me be drunk than sober. Then I recalled the book. I had forgotten about it. I took it up and untied the string that held the thin volume intact. I turned the cover and saw the writing of my great grandfather on it.

2.

My ancestor wrote these words;

'Forgive me for this as I was rash then. But the damage was done and the payback needed to be drawn. Could I have gone back to avert this? I had tried many a time but the end could never change. I leave you this so that you will know it was my fault but there are good to it as well as bad. Read for your sake and keep it safe for the family sake...... Sir Ian Belvedere of the Round Tables, servant of my King Arthur.'

I looked up from the book and saw the portrait hanging over the fireplace. He does look like a pirate, rogue, and plunderer. A knight I doubt so. I then raise my cup and saluted the man.

"Pardon me, my great ancestor. I shall refill my glass now." I placed the book down and took up the bottle to pour myself another full glass. Then I picked up the book again and turned the page to come.

“I have betrayed the King when he entrusted me with his last wish. I was to return the sword to the Lady in the Lake. I failed to do so and instead I sailed with it to the open sea. I was don’t know why I did it but it was done. I paid for my passage on a longboat to sail to the Icelandic island to hide. The skiff sailed on the turn of the tide. I was with my trusted warriors, Geldor and Tolyn. We have shed our heavy amour but we kept the chest plate and the broadsword with the shield. Once we were on the open sea, the crew leader staged a revolt on us. They were about twenty of them and held various weapons. We fought and was soon the only one who was surviving then was me. I held my sword firm with both my hands. I did not realize it then but in the fight, I had wielded Excalibur.”

“I was to jump into the sea with the sword when I heard the sound. It was eerie to my hearing. I saw the boat crews rushed to cover their ears but some was dancing to it. The ones that were dancing soon jumped into the sea. I leaned over to watch and saw hands pulling the crews from beneath the waves. I then saw the hands belonged to females and males. I had called them that for they looked like our folks without any cover of clothes but their skins were bluish and they had fangs in their mouth.”

“Abomination! I shouted then at the bluish creatures. I saw more of the crews jumped overboard. I rushed over to hold the ones on board but they have been called by the sea. I recalled hearing such devils that dwelled in the sea. They were named the Sirens. Their sounds will turn men who ply the seas to jump overboard into the sea. It was recorded in the ancient scrolls of the so-named Argonauts. The only way to avoid the influence of the Siren was to block out the sound. The only way was to place beeswax into the ear.”

“I had none and yet I was unaffected. I stood on the keel of the ship and then the leader of the Sirens appeared on the deck. It was a figure of Man and yet the resemblance differed from the waist down. There was a body covered in scales and instead of legs, it was a fin tail.”

“I am Lord Dijon. You held an exalted artifact.” The bluish figure voiced out. “Give me the sword and your life will be spared.”

“This is under my care. I would not release it to you.” I challenged the one named Lord Dijon. “I am the …”

“A knight without a King. I know of you, Sir Belvedere. I will ask no more than to demand the sword.” Those words shook me but I will not give up the sword. I had then regretted the decision to betray my King of his wish. I held my ground when the Sirens resumed the attack. It was after a blood bath, and myself bloodied but standing, Lord Dyson withdrew his Sirens. He then cursed me.”

“Your fist born and also your heir will die on their thirty fifth years. That curse will prevail till the sword belongs to me.”

'Morgan LeFay Belvedere.... beware.... ~'

"Mother?" I called out once more and then stood up. I had dropped the book and spill my drink on the carpet. I looked around me. I was no longer in my castle.

I was on the boat with the dead bodies; humans and abominations laid on the deck. I was dressed in the knight’s amour and held a broadsword. I looked up and saw then my ancestor, Sir Belvedere standing at the keel holding the sword. I recognized him from the portraits of him at the castle. On the other end, they're lying on the deck was Lord Dijon. I believed he was that for he had the tail fin.

“Who are you? How dare you intrude into my domain?”

“I am 'Morgan LeFay Belvedere. The descendant of Sir Belvedere of the Round Knights.”

“The recent of the descendant.” Lord Dijon spat out those words. “So, Belvedere. How many had died for your unwillingness to submit to my request? How many had it been? Twenty-five or more heirs of your family? I lost count on the killings. How many will be tied to the post on your stubbornness?”

“You are a Devil in the disguise, Lord Dijon.” Sir Belvedere sighed. “I grew tired of your curse but I won’t betray my King anymore. Kill him as you did with the others. They will die in protecting my honor.”

“And he will but unfortunately he has no heir and is the last of your lineage.” Lord Dijon laughed. “Our battles will soon end. You will be without an heir and the final battle will be you and me once more. I will prevail and Excalibur will be mine once more.”

“I trust my descendant to defend my honor too.” The voice was that of a lady who appeared on the deck next to me. I did not know she was with me but there was her in the flowing white gown with the scattered red roses on the hem. Her long hair was loose flowing down her back to the waistline.

“Morgan Le Fay, I presume.” Lord Dijon exclaimed in surprise. “I would never have thought you would intervene in the matter of Excalibur.”

“The sword wields by Arthur who killed my son.” Morgan Le Fay referred to the final battle of Arthur against Mordred, her son with Arthur. “It’s in the past, Lord Dijon or shall I call you Hades.”

Lord Dijon laughed when his identity was revealed. Hades was one of the three leaders of the Sirens. The Greek philosopher Plato says there were three kinds of sirens- the celestial, the generative, and the cathartic. The first was under the government of Zeus, the second under that of Poseidon, and the third of Hades. When the soul is in heaven the sirens seek, by harmonic motion, to unite it to the divine life of the celestial host; and when in Hades, to conform the soul to eternal infernal regimen; but when on earth their only job to "produce generation, of which the sea is emblematic"

“He invades my domain with his army of Sirens.” Another voice roared from the starboard. It was a tall and huge bluish figure with the heavy muscles famously known in the fables as Poseidon, the leader of the generative Sirens. “Hades, your Sirens are outnumbered by mine. Recall your curse now.”

“I am Hades, and even the command of Zeus are not mine to follow.” Hades defied the other. “I will have Excalibur, the one sword that even the Gods fear.”

“And it was ours to guard.” Another voice sounded off the port side. It was an ensemble of ladies in armor and wielded weapons. “We are the Amazons, sisters to the Lady of the Lake.”

“And where hid the previous guardians of the sword?” Hades called out. “Are you ….?”

“I am here. We are all here.” The one who spoke was Viviane of the Lake. She was standing next to the Amazons with the same armor. “I loaned the sword to King Arthur on the request of Merlin.”

“The one who had seduced you before…” Hades laughed.

“Morgan…”

“I do not control Merlin. He was my lover for I needed his power.” Morgan Le Fay replied. “Maybe he may explain himself.”

The elderly figure that was my butler and castle caretaker appeared. He stepped onto the boat and looked at the dead bodies. He then looked to Sir Belvedere.

“My sincere apologies, Sir Belvedere. When I told you to take the sword away after Arthur’s death, I had wanted to create a new King. I was not to know that my strength and power was weakened by Morgan Le Fay and it took me a long time to recover.”

“Yes, Merlin. The death of Mordred drained you for you were linked to him as I was. We both suffered for his death. We were unable to protect the sword and went into hibernation. I was a wandering soul while you choose to stay in Camelot to serve the descendants of Belvedere, given the castle by the knights. Lancelot had wandered the lands looking to be bested in battle, Percival to find the Holy Grail once more, Galahad with Gawain had left for their own land. So were the others too.”

“Master Merlin. I had fulfilled your wishes. Spare me the death I deserved.” Sir Belvedere looked to me. “He deserved not of this.”

“Hades, lift the curse. The sword was never yours to possess.”

Poseidon looked at Hades. “Or I will have the seas only of two Sirens species.”

Hades agreed and Sir Belvedere handed the sword to Merlin. The later declined and motioned to the Amazons.

“The sword belonged to them. I merely loaned it.”

Soon I found myself back in the library. I picked up the glass and the book. A note dropped out.

“Master Belvedere, I am leaving you now. I am ashamed to have done those bad things to your family. Don’t forgive me. Just remember me. Arthur.”

I burnt the note and stepped to the window. I opened it and looked outside despite the cold air. I looked to the sea that was below the castle cliff. I heard nothing but the waves. The sound was melodic as if it was sung by the Sirens. It was appropriate for me to name Camelot to its new name; the castle and the drink to the "The Sea Sirens".