The Calling

Francis stood on the beach with his colleagues and closed his eyes allowing the evening air to sweep through his air and cleanse his mind. A whispering voice nagged inside his ear as it carried on the breeze as it swept in across the sea. He looked along the expanse of the beach and the quietness of the entire area. Only he stood on the edge of the water, with his three comrades standing behind him, as silent observers...just waiting expectantly for his instructions. His mind wandered to their fate and their roles and realised that their lives had been linked to his by this haunting voice which had called him to the point. Whatever choice he made now would tie them to him forever and despite his best efforts he could feel his chest bursting with pride.

“Come to me...” the voice still drifted across the tide and toyed with Francis.

“Where are you?” he whispered quietly to himself as he stared out over the sun toward the setting sun in the distance.

“Come to me...”

“I can hear you, I just can’t see you”

“Come to me...”

Francis closed his eyes and allowed his senses to listen and feel the voice. “I hear you...” he whispered.

“What is the youth doing?” whispered Bedivere as he stood watching from his sandy position.

“He has lost his mind” commented Kay, “it has snapped”

“Nay...hold...” said Galahad, “he listens” The other two Knights cast their gaze toward Francis who cocked his head to one side as he stood stock still.

“Tis the pressure of leadership” continued Kay, “he cannot cope with the responsibility. Look he speaks to himself, tis a sign of madness”

“Do not mistake madness with greatness my Lord” replied Galahad, “even the most bent of mind’s can be driven by greatness. I have faith...”

“Thoust didn’t though” snapped Kay.

“But he has been proven” said Galahad, “and I am loyal to my Liege. Whatever form he takes”

“Be still” snapped Bedivere, “see how he moves” he indicated toward Francis who was glancing down the beach, still with his eyes closed. “He is searching...”

“Searching?” queried Kay, “Thoust is a mad as yon King”

“Nay...he searches; look how he moves”

“Indeed” agreed Galahad, “but what...or who does he search”

“Come to me...” the voice was insistent in its attitude as Francis turned his head listening to the breeze, his eyes tightly closed as he attempted to blot out all his other senses.

“I hear you, but I cannot see you” he mused, “I know you are near”

“Come to me...”

He let the air caress his face and play over his senses...then he turned and frowned looking at his comrades on the beach, “can you smell that?” he asked and watched in dismay as each Knight shook his head. “Sweet...like apples” he insisted.

“Tis the Isle” commented Bedivere

“The what?”

“The Isle” explained Bedivere, “it is where the Lady resides”. He stepped forward to the edge of the sea and gazed out over the ocean, “when I cast Excalibur into the lake, I journeyed to the fabled Isle of Apples, where a small lake sat in the center of the Isle. I remember the fragrance...” his words belied his own feelings as Francis could see a pain to his words as he thought back through the centuries. “the sweetness in the air, the aroma of apples and flower which played with thy senses” he said wistfully, “I remember throwing the sword far across the water, where it was caught by the Lady” he shook his head and looked at Francis, “if thoust can smell apples, then it must be the Lady”

“I can hear her in my head” he confided to the Knight, glancing briefly toward the other two, “and I can smell the scent of apple”

“Then follow your senses” urged Bedivere.

“But...there is nothing there”

“The Isle lays across the water” remembered Bedivere, “we must travel by sea” he pointed out across the water, “you lead us and we will follow”

“But what if I can’t do it?” asked Francis, “what if I’m leading you all to your deaths?”

“Death holds no fear or barrier for us young Lord” commented Bedivere kindly, “if we die, then we die for a noble cause” he looked toward Galahad and smiled, “he has faith in your young Lord, as do I. You will make the right choice...I know you will”

“You haven’t answered my question” whispered Francis, “what if I’m leading you to your death?”

“As I have said...death holds no fear for any of us. We were born to serve, we follow the noblest of quests and know of the consequence of our actions. There is not one man among us who would not lay down our life for our King, or our belief. I choose to follow thee, as do we all” he smiled at Francis as he spoke, “we have all died before” he commented, “and are cursed to die again. Do not fear for us young Francis. Our life is yours to command” he said proudly. “Now what is your choice”

Francis closed his eyes and listened hard to the voice in the air, “come to me...” it urged persistently on the breeze, “come to me...”

He looked over the waves and pointed out into the bay, “it is there...” he said softly to Bedivere, “I can feel it”

“Then that is where we go”

“How do we travel?” asked Francis looking at Bedivere.

“You are King elect, that must be your choice”

“I can’t even see the Isle...” his words were lost in the breeze as he glanced along the beach.

“If you can hear her voice, then you can follow it” whispered Bedivere softly as the other Knights joined them at the water’s edge.

“Where do we go from here?” demanded Kay, “we waste time standing looking at the sea like forlorn lovers”

“We go...” Francis pointed out over the sea, “there”