The Calling

“By all that’s holy!” cried Lord Kay as Mordred slid from the end of Excalibur. He turned to his attacked and swung his sword violently against his skull, his sword splintering the metal of his helmet and the blade digging into the bone producing a fountain of crimson to escape and spray over his armour. Bedivere copied his lead and swung his sword at the second Knight, his blade connecting with the Knight’s shoulder and stood with steely satisfaction as the hard metal cut through the soft flesh of the soldier and watched briefly as the man’s arm fell to the floor. Percival copied the actions of Gwen and having sunk to one knee he thrust his own blade in an upright arc, stabbing his own guard beneath his breastplate and forced his blade upward. The metal of the sword ran through the inside of his body, severing arteries and puncturing the man’s heart before running up his neck as he slid down the blade and protruded from the Knights mouth.

“No!” screamed Morgan as she watched with horror as the movement around her blurred her vision. Mordred fell...the Knights of the Round Table attacked and the girl...the girl stood there amidst the carnage covered in the blood of her beloved nephew. “Kill them!” she screamed her mind whirling at the scene before her.

“My Lord!” shouted Bedivere as he swung his heavy weapon at another attacker, slicing through the soldiers armour and producing an explosion of crimson across the courtyard floor.

“The land is awash with blood!” yelled Kay as he thrust his sword through another Knight, “only its thine” he laughed as he watched the Knight fall from his blow.

“I think this is yours...” Francis turned to the sound of the voice and smiled at Gwen who stood in the midst of the chaos holding Excalibur in her hands.

“We’re supposed to be recusing you” he smiled and took the sword.

“Well don’t you think this would be a good time” Gwen ducked as another Knight fell close to her from another swing of Lord Kay’s sword.

Francis nodded and took a firm grasp of the sword and looked about the courtyard. He could see victims of the Knights...his Knights fall around them as the battle was quickly becoming a bloodbath. The Knights were being slowly forced back toward the edge of the courtyard and close to a wall from the excessive pressure of the relentless forces under Morgan’s disposal. “Bedivere!” he called. The Knight waved and smiled as he swung his sword at another attacker, spraying the ground with more blood and littering the area with another corpse. Francis pointed toward the opening close to their position, “we must pull back...there are too many of them” Bedivere nodded and moved across the edge of the wall, followed by Kay and Gawain.

“My beloved” bemoaned Morgan as she fell to her knees by Mordred’s twisted body. She knelt in the dirt and rested his head on her lap, stroking his hair and allowing his blood to stain her elegant clothing. Her hands ran through his hair and her fingers became entangled and matted with blood as her hands ran down his body to his wound. “My dear Mordred” she breathed quietly as the sound of battle overcame her.

Francis stood with his back to the wall, Gwen’s hand locked firmly in his and Excalibur in the other. “We need to get out!” he called out to his comrades.

“Thy wish to retreat?” called Kay.

Francis nodded frantically, “Yes”

“Then why does thy not say” Kay replied as he swung his sword into another attacker. The limited area that the Knights were standing in made it easy to defend their position, but the odds of being overwhelmed were mounting with each attack. Francis could see more of Morgan’s soldiers file into the courtyard and he wondered exactly the size of her army, while here they were; four Knights, himself and Gwen...and from the look of his comrades they were beginning to tire. Percival was struggling more than most, still ailing from his wounds at the hands of Mordred he leant heavily on the wall as Gawain stood before him fending off an attack. Even Kay and Bedivere were panting hard as the exertion of battle took its toll.

“We must get back to the tunnel” shouted Francis from behind the back of Kay.

“Does thy know the way!” Kay called over his shoulder, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the attacking soldiers.

“Yes...I think so” replied Francis.

“You lead the way my Lord, we will defend thy rear” Francis nodded and pushed Gwen along the wall toward a low archway and out into the desolate passage. The stones seemed to stare as Francis ran down the grass incline and it struck Francis how calm it felt away from the carnage only a few feet away. He could hear the sounds of swords clash from the other side of the wall as the fighting continued.

“My Lady” breathed Agravain standing over Morgan, gazing down at her and the twisted form of Mordred. He could hear the sound of her sobs over the noise of battle, “my Lady” he said again and recoiled as she stared at him with venom in her eyes.

“Leave us!” she roared, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“But my Lady...the boy” Agravain stammered.

“I said leave us!”

Agravain waivered unsure what his actions should be. He could see the fury and anger of unspent emotion build in her eyes, and he could see the carnage of his men falling around him as they fell in the courtyard...one by one stricken by the experienced Knights. He thrust his sword into its scabbard around his waist and glanced across the body laden land and sulked toward the rear of the castle, “by the hand of God” he whispered as he pulled himself into the shadows and fled into the night unnoticed and alone.

Morgan stared down into the blood smeared face of her nephew, “dearest Mordred” she whispered, “there shall be a reckoning...of this I swear” she screamed into the air, then silently lowered her head to his and kissed his bloodied lips, smearing her own with his blood.

Francis forced his way through the tunnel, with the sound of footsteps echoing through his head and along the tunnel walls. His hand was gripped firmly around the hilt of Excalibur as he thrust his way through the passage, his mind whirling with new information and new possibilities. His other hand was entwined within Gwen’s fingers, interlocked and the thrill of her touch coursed through his body, blocking out the fear which was trying in vain to sweep through his body. He could hear the crash of his comrades behind him as their heavy footsteps stamped over the floor and further behind the first sound of distant pursuers. He could see the end of the tunnel rise up into his vision ahead of him as tiny vestiges of moonlight fought its way through the overhanging vines and the outside air caressed the leaves as it drifted aimlessly down the passage. He felt pressure in his arm as Gwen pulled at him, tugging at his arm. He looked at her as he carried on down the tunnel, “What’s wrong?” he asked

“What if their waiting for us” she whispered staring past him at the opening of the passage.

Francis shook his head and frowned, hoping she wouldn’t see his expression. He hadn’t thought they could be running straight into a trap, he had sort of relied on blind luck that all of Morgan’s force had been gathered in the castle. “We’ll have to risk it” he whispered back, hoping his voice sound confident, while the first thoughts of the potential ambush tripped into his brain. He held her hand tightly and smiled, feelings flowing through his body that he could do anything. In his mind he pictured himself bursting out of the tunnel and fighting off a hoard of soldiers while holding her hand tightly in his own, in reality he found himself slowly as he approached the mouth of the tunnel and carefully peered through the creepers. He paused as he scanned the area, carefully looking over the vegetation and the moonlight covered the open air. Although the area looked clear, he couldn’t be sure as the darkness crept over the undergrowth and hid the bushes within swathes of shadow. He’d have to risk it; he knew in his heart he would have no choice.

With Gwen’s hand in his own, and Excalibur stabbing the air before him he moved from the tunnel and stood in the clearing breathing in the air, drinking in the clean air and filling his lungs with the clear atmosphere. They stood alone for a moment and stared at each other. He could feel himself falling in her eyes and as she flashed him a smile which shone like the sun and melted his heart. The crash of Lord Kay and Bedivere emerging noisily from the tunnel brought him sharply back to reality.

“My Lord...” said Bedivere, “we should make haste...our enemies are close”

“If we wait here we can smite our enemies as they emerge!” roared Kay, reveling in the bloodlust which caught his eye.

“No... I’m sorry Kay” sighed Francis, “we must go. If we’re going to end the curse, we have to get back to the cave”

“Aye...haps thy is correct” he conceded downhearted and looked back at the tunnel where Gawain was pulling Percival free from the vines.

“The effort is too great” Gawain said softly as he emerged, “his wounds are severe”

“From the attack?” asked Gwen.

Gawain turned his head and sadly shook it as he spoke, “nay my Lady...tis from earlier”

“Leave me...” whispered Percival as he struggled to stand unaided.

“No...” said Francis defiantly, “no more deaths”

“My Lord...” started Percival, “I am tired, and thy journey will take time with thoust as a hindrance” he indicated across his body as he spoke, smiling at his tortured frame. “Leave me...I will give thee time”

“If you’re sure...”

“Francis...you can’t” Gwen said imploringly staring into his eyes.

“My Lady...do not grieve. This is not my world” said Percival, “it seers my head and rips at my soul” he admitted as the shout of shouting echoed through the tunnel. “I do not fear death...only the unknown”

“I’m sorry” she whispered and leant forward kissing his cheek smiling through her own tears.

“Do not cry for me” he said softly and held her hands, looking deep into her eyes, “Live thy life” he glanced at Francis and smiled, “my Lord needs a maiden fair of face” he laughed and let go of her hands, turning to face the mouth of the tunnel. “Now...go” he said softly.

Francis pulled at Gwen’s hand and pulled her through the undergrowth and into the forest. Kay and Bedivere hovered for a moment before nodding in his direction, then followed the couple from sight.

“Thoust are sure?” asked Gawain.

Percival nodded and shook his friend’s hand, “go my friend” he said and drew his sword facing the tunnel.

“Thoust is a brave man” said Gawain casting one final glance at Percival before the undergrowth swallowed his green armour and he disappeared through the trees. Percival stared at the tunnel and staggered forward, using his sword as a prop aiding his movement and stood for a moment casting his vision down the passage. He could hear the sounds of shouting from the confines of the tunnel and sighed, moving inside the passageway and leaning heavily against the soft muddy wall stared across the ceiling of the tunnel. His eyes followed the arch in the roof and he stood watching as the tendrils of vegetation thrust its way through the decaying remains of the stonework. With one final effort, Percival forced his sword upward, digging it deep into the earth and moved it around disturbing and breaking the tension cast from the surface. He flinched as tons of mud and soil fell amidst brick as it tumbled from the top of the tunnel casting its baleful glare over the tunnel, the rumble of the subsidence spread through the tunnel, causing a subdued silence as earth shifted and moved in the creation of the underground tomb. Bodies lay twisted and broken beneath the rubble from above and a deathly silence fell over the castle, broken only by a solitary wail of a woman cast from the heart of the castle.

Gwen pulled at Francis’ hand as they emerged into a small clearing. He stopped and looked at her, staring into her eyes and smiled, then frowned as she looked toward the floor. He glanced around him for a moment and recognised the patch of land and realised they were close to the beach...and the cave. Kay, Bedivere and Gawain crashed out of the undergrowth and paused at the two figures standing opposite each other.

“Go on...” urged Francis

“Thoust is sure?” queried Bedivere.

Francis nodded, “we will meet you there” he said softly, still looking into her open face.

“Very well” Bedivere cast a quick glance toward Francis as he drove forward toward the beach, followed by the two remaining Knights.

“What is it?” asked Francis, “what’s wrong”

Gwen let go of his hand and turned away, tears rolling from her eyes, “before you came here I had everything I thought I wanted” she folded her arms as the cold bit into the arms, and the moonlight shone and sparkled off the ribbons cast through her dress. “Then...all the deaths...Dad...Lance, people I don’t know” she struggled with her words as her voice trembled. “And then there is you” she turned and looked at him with bloodshot eyes, ringed with a curtain of moisture. “Why?” she asked, “why risk all of this for me?” she voice quivered and she looked at him for answers.

“Gwen...don’t” he stammered.

“Tell me!” she shouted.

“Gwen...please...I...”

“Please” she begged, “you have to tell me!” her voice rose over the sound of the forest as she shouted, “if you don’t I’ll be angry with you!” he voice softened, “please...I need to me. You hardly know me”

“I can’t describe it” he said softly, taking her hands in his and pulling her close, looking into her eyes as he spoke. “Yes...we have only just met...and yes I don’t really know you. But I want too” he smiled as he spoke, “when I look at you...everything feels right” he struggled with his words as they stood facing each other, “I feel...happy. Is that stupid?” he smiled as she softly shook her head to his words, “I want to be angry, I want to feel scared, but when I see you...it just feels right. It feels good” his arms snaked around her and he pulled her close to his body, allowing the heat from his body to sink into her. “You make me want to be around you, even if you don’t talk to me. Just the odd glance, the look that says...I’m here...I care” He pushed her away and held her firmly by the shoulders, “I will be here for you” he promised staring at her, “I will never let you down”

“Thank you...” she said softly looking around embarrassed by the sudden burst of words from Francis.

“We should go...” he said and placed his lips gently on her cheek and eased himself into the forest with her trailing behind him.

The cave was dark as they walked along the tunnel and entered the cavern. “My Lord...Lady” said Kay smiling at the couple as they moved into the light cast by the flame.

“Kay” said Francis rushing forward and gripping his hand firmly. He looked around the chamber at the occupants and his thought strayed to lost friends; Galahad, Bors, Tristan and Percival and his heart felt heavy for the loss of these men who had sacrificed their own lives for someone they didn’t really know...only because he was a blood relative of King Arthur.

“My Lord...” he turned as the deep voice broke the silence of the cavern.

He felt Gwen flinch under the Fisher King’s scrutiny as his figure loomed over them. “It’s alright, he’s a friend” he reassured her.

“You sure” she whispered as he stared down on her.

“It is time...” the Fisher King said turning his back on her and dragged his body slowly to the center of the chamber, pausing only briefly to lay his hands against the cold stone altar. Francis released Gwen’s hand and moved across the cavern and stood on the opposite side of the altar to the Fisher King and gazed up the expanse of his body.

“I’m ready” Francis said and removed the scabbard from his waist and draped it over the roughly sewn rock. “What must I do?”

The Fisher King blinked and lowered his head, casting his gaze over the leather bound casing. “Remove Excalibur” he ordered. Francis reached for the scabbard and pulled the sword from the sheave and held it up above his head. The light played around the blade and caught the jewels offset in the handle and threw shadows along the cavern wall. He placed the scabbard back on the rock and lowered the sword placing it gently across the palms of his hands, and he looked up toward the Fisher King and passed the weapon across the stone. The Fisher King waved the sword away, shaking his head, “tis your destiny” he said, turning his back on an uncertain Francis and raised his hands in the air. “We are the few” he spoke, his voice carrying across the cavern and around the waiting throng of people. “The survivors of Camlaan. We are the cursed” he lowered his head and closed his eyes as he spoke, “We shall rise through the ages time after time, till the curse is lifted” he looked directly toward Francis, “by a Pendragon...” he lowered his hands and turned to face Francis and ran his hands over the top of the blade. “With this blade thee can fulfill your destiny and release our torment”

“What does he mean?” hissed Gwen.

“The sword is cursed” Francis whispered back, “and I am the only one that can end it” he looked at the Fisher King who nodded patiently, “They are locked in an eternal cycle of sleep and battle, never dying...” he looked back at Gwen, “I can end this...I can free them”.

“You are the one” confirmed the Fisher King, “You are the last Pendragon”

“What must I do?” asked Francis staring at the Fisher King.

“Destroy Excalibur” he stated simply.

“What?”

“Destroy Excalibur...end the curse...free us all”

Francis stepped back from the altar and looked at the sword in his hands, “I...I... don’t know” he stammered.

“Destroy Excalibur” said the Fisher King again.

Francis looked about the chamber at the expectant faces surrounding him, “I don’t know if I can” he admitted finally. His eyes looked imploringly at the congregation of Knights, “I mean...look at this” he exclaimed weighing the sword in his hands, “its Excalibur” he searched the faces of those around him and bore witness to silence. “This is history...real history.” he struggled with his words, “Excalibur” he whispered looking at the sword. “This is part of our heritage, MY heritage. This is part of me...this sword. My link to Arthur. You have to understand I don’t think I can” he looked at the Fisher King who bowed his head sorrowfully, “Excalibur...” he whispered.

“There is but one more way” said the Fisher King simply.

“Without destroying the sword? what is it?”

The Fisher King looked straight at Francis, a heavy sadness tinged in his eyes which caused Francis to gaze down at the sword in his hands one final time. “Thoust must destroy the sword” the Fisher King reaffirmed.

“You don’t understand” bemoaned Francis, “this sword is Excalibur” he whispered, “this is my own personal history, my link to the past, its Excalibur” he looked at the Fisher King, “you said another way?” the Fisher King nodded, but remained silent. “Tell me” demanded Francis, “I can’t destroy Excalibur...it doesn’t seem right”

“There is but one other way to the end the curse” said the Fisher King and he looked at Francis directly, “to end the curse thoust must end the bloodline...”

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