The Timelsss Tale of the Sword in the StoneWhen a mysterious sword appears in a church graveyard on Christmas day bearing the inscription "Whoso pulleth out this sword from this stone and anvil is the true-born King of all Britain" knights from all over the kingdom flock to get their chance to pull the sword from the stone.
Nobody knew what happened to the square block of marble stone in the churchyard. There was nothing but vacant earth there in one instant. The massive slab emerged out of nowhere, or so it seemed. And what a gem it was! It appeared to have been hewn from the side of a mountain. On top of it was a massive iron anvil, and buried deep within it was a long, sharp, gleaming steel sword blade.
It was Christmas Eve, and the knights of King Uther Pendragon had gathered in the church to worship. They looked willing to put aside their continuous bickering about who should be King of Britain for just one day. The rivalry had raged since King Uther died without a son to succeed him. It was a heated rivalry. Each knight was willing to kill everyone else to take the kingdom.
Merlin the Magician groaned as he peered around the sanctuary at the hulking faces of the knights. It was terrible that men like them should lead the British because they were more concerned with their aspirations than with the wellbeing of their country.
Britain was in a dreadful situation while Uther's knights squabbled. Year after year, ruthless Anglo-Saxon invaders conquered more and more territory. If the British are to stop them, they must have a King - a King who is universally recognised as their genuine and only lawful ruler.
That's what the sword in the stone was for. It was the only way Merlin could show the people who their true King was. When the knights left the cathedral, they immediately noticed the stone. They clustered around it and ran their fingers over the stone's hard surface. They gazed with awe and adoration at the massive steel sword. That was the kind of blade that could kill any foe, and there wasn't a man in the room who didn't want to own it.
Suddenly one of the knights noticed the inscriptions engraved in gold lettering along the stone's side. 'Whosoever pulleth this sword from this stone and anvil is the true-born King of all Britain,' they say.
The knights raced forward as soon as they saw the message, ready to retrieve the blade from the anvil. They pushed and shoved and yelled to be the first.
One knight eventually barged in front and grabbed the hilt. He yanked. The sword remained motionless. He heaved and hauled with all his might. It refused to budge.
The knight gave up, enraged and disillusioned. He was followed by another, all of them straining to get the blade out until they grew blue in the face from the exertion. The sword did not move a millimetre.
The Knights were enraged, while Merlin stood nearby, his peculiar smirk on his face. The Knights made fists at him.
"One of your pranks, Merlin!" they screamed. "You've cast a curse on this blade."
"There's no trick, Sir Knight," Merlin said gently. "That simply means that none of you are the true-born King of the United Kingdom."
"So where is he?" muttered one of the knights, a huge guy with a sour expression on his face. "If I ever get my hands on him, true-born King or not, I'll battle him for the crown!"
"You might get your chance if you take it," Merlin said. "On New Year's Day, there will be a fantastic tournament here. Knights from near and far have been summoned to joust and fight with swords - and all will attempt to draw the sword from this stone. We'll see whether anyone can do it!"
The roads were crowded with magnificent processions of knights, all mounted on huge strong horses and followed by their squires and attendants, throughout the week between Christmas and New Year's. They were on their way to the great competition. Everyone aspired to draw the sword from the stone and thereby be crowned King of Britain.
Sir Ector and his son Sir Kay were among the knights, as was Sir Ector's younger son, Arthur. Arthur was only sixteen years old, far too young to be a knight. He couldn't participate in the jousting, but he could help his father and brother by looking after their weapons and horses.
The field where the competition was to be held was filled with bell-shaped tents in various colours by the time New Year's Day arrived. The flag of the knight who owned it floated from the top of each one. Each flag has a unique pattern and style. Arthur sat at the side of the field, looking around. He was always happiest when surrounded by good horses and valiant fighting men, and he revelled in the tournament's loudness, bustle, and excitement.
Arthur was startled to see his brother Sir Kay galloping towards him. Sir Kay appeared to be in a rush.
"I've left my second sword in our lodgings," he said to Arthur. "What a moron I was. How could I have overlooked it? Will you go fetch it for me?"
Arthur jumped to his feet as swiftly as he could. He adored and respected his older brother and enjoyed doing things for him.
"Of course," Arthur responded. He dashed off to the adjoining house where he, his brother, and his father were staying for the tournament. Arthur quickly arrived at the house's door, only to discover that it was locked. He yelled and beat on the door, but no one answered.
'Everyone must be at the tournament,' Arthur reasoned. 'How should I proceed? Kay, my brother, must have his weapon.'
Arthur suddenly remembered the sword in the stone. It was in the churchyard because none of the knights had been able to draw it out.
Arthur dashed to the churchyard, climbed the huge stone, and drew the sword from the anvil. It was breathtaking. Arthur loved its nice, broad blade and how it glistened in the winter sun.
'Sir Kay will be quite happy with this,' Arthur thought as he turned the blade from side to side, causing it to shine in the light.
Arthur had completely forgotten about the message engraved on the stone's side at that point. Sir Kay and Sir Ector, on the other hand, had not forgotten. They were taken aback when they saw Arthur approaching them, swinging the big sword to demonstrate that he had done as Sir Kay had requested.
"Here, brother Kay," Arthur panted, a little out of breath from all the rushing around. "Here's a nice sword for you..."
"Can you tell me where you got this?" Sir Ector inquired of Arthur.
"From the churchyard, it was sticking in the anvil," Arthur replied, concerned by his father's solemn demeanour. "Have I done anything wrong, Father?" he wondered fearfully.
Sir Ector shook his head and rested his hand on his son's shoulder. Arthur realised that his hand was trembling.
"No, Arthur, you have not done wrong," Sir Ector answered. "But, let us go to the churchyard and see you take the sword from the stone once more."
"Put the sword back in the stone, Arthur," Sir Ector said as they approached the churchyard. The sword slid softly and effortlessly into the anvil.
Sir Ector extended his hand to Sir Kay. "Try to get it out," he said. Sir Kay gripped the hilt and began to draw. He yanked once more. He threw up for the third time. The sword appeared to be firmly embedded.
"What's the problem, brother Kay?" Arthur inquired. "Why are you unable to move the sword? Watch how simple it is!" With one rapid action, he reached up, seized the sword hilt, and slid the blade out of the anvil.
To Arthur's surprise, his father and brother knelt on the ground in front of him. They were bending their heads in homage to him.
"What are you up to?" Arthur sobbed.
"Why do you bow down to me?"
"Because you are the true-born King of the United Kingdom," Sir Ector explained. "I am honoured to pledge my devotion to you and serve you."
Arthur was taken aback. "Me? A King?" he gasped. "That must be an error!"
"No, Arthur," a voice from behind him said. "There is no error."
Merlin was there. From the shadow of the door, he had been observing everything. The magician now stepped forward, carrying a gorgeous gold scabbard and belt.
"Take this, Arthur," Merlin instructed. "It's all yours. I've waited many years to deliver it to you because I've known since you were born that you are the true-born King of Britain!"
Arthur couldn't say anything. He simply stared in awe at the gleaming gold scabbard. He flipped it around in his palms. Merlin looked at him and felt sad for a moment that such a small lad should be burdened with such a great destiny. Merlin, as King of Britain, recognised that it would be difficult for Arthur to bring peace to his people after so many years of strife and fighting. However, the Anglo-Saxons, against whom Arthur would have to fight, were formidable adversaries. But that was all in the future. Now was the moment to rejoice.
"Come!" exclaimed Merlin. "We must inform the people that their King has finally appeared. They've been waiting a long time to hear this happy news."
