Reclaiming England. (Nano Novel 2016)

Chapter Eight: Exalibur

Sir Bedivere knelt by his king, gripping Arthur's hand in his own. He was weary, very weary, and the battle had taken its toll on him. But Arthur was in more danger. The huge wound on his head, given to him by Sir Mordred, was life threatening.

"My friend," Arthur muttered, and the knight leaned in closer to hear him speak. "Take my sword, and cast it into the lake."

Sir Bedivere was surprised at the request, Arthur's sword, Excalibur, was his prized possession. It was a beautiful weapon, expertly crafted; simple, yet elegant.

"Are you sure, sire?" he asked, and the king nodded.

Sir Bedivere stood, stepping away from the king's bed. Once he had found the king wounded on the battlefield, he had taken him to a small church nearby. He didn't seem to be recovering, but he might yet live. Sir Bedivere wasn't sure yet.

Taking the sword from where it lay beside the king, he left the church. The lake wasn't far away, just a quick walk.

He stood at the shore of the lake, holding the weapon in his hand. Drawing back his arm to throw, he hesitated. No. He couldn't do it. The weapon was too beautiful, to exquisite.

Feeling slightly guilty, he laid it on the ground and covered it with leaves. He could retreave it later – once Arthur recovered. And if he didn't... well, he would have a new sword, wouldn't he?

Returning to his king, he bowed slightly.

"I have done as you asked," he said, pushing back the guilt that came from lying to his king, his friend.

"What did you see?" Arthur asked.

Slightly taken aback by the question, Sir Bedivere licked his lips.

"I saw... sun shining on the lake, a few dragonflies flitting around –"

"Oh my friend, please do as I ask. Throw my sword into the lake."

Shocked that Arthur could tell he hadn't done as he was asked, Sir Bedivere bowed slightly and moved back out of the church.

Again, he stood with the sword in his hand, his arm back to throw. And again he couldn't bring himself to part with the beautiful weapon. Not thinking, he drew his own sword, and flung that into the waters.

When Arthur asked him what he had seen again, Sir Bedivere focused on how the sword flew through the air, how it landed in the water with a plop.

"Sir Bedivere. If you will not do as I ask when I ask as a friend, do as I ask when I ask as your king. Throw my sword into the lake," Arthur said, angry this time. Again, Sir Bedivere bowed slightly, and made his way back to the lake.

This time, when he held the sword in his hand, he knew he couldn't lie to his king again. Taking a deep breath, he drew back his arm and threw the weapon, watching it sail through the air, and arch down towards the lake.

But before it landed in the water, something different happened. Instead of vanishing under the waves like Sir Bedivere sword had, an arm reached out of the water and caught it.

In shock, the knight watched as the arm brandished the sword, waving it in the air once, twice, three times, before slowly vanishing under the water.

Amazed by what he had seen, Sir Bedivere made his way back to the church. This time, he didn't wait for Arthur to ask him what he had seen, he spoke at once.

"I threw the sword into the lake as you asked, and I saw an arm reach out and grasp it. The arm brandished the sword three times before vanishing under the waves," he blurted out.

Arthur smiled – and the knight knew this was the answer he had been waiting for.

"Thank you, my friend," he said. "Thank you."