The Pearl of Avalon

I stood up , and stared at the dragons head. It’s red eyes forever open. It’s forked tongue was sticking out of the side of its mouth. I just stared, mesmerized, as the pool of blood around the head grew larger. I didn’t even see the skeleton coming towards me. It was only when I stopped looking at the severed head I saw him standing right beside me, “Ah!” It was quite a shock.

“I will not harm you, milady,” he said to me in a deep, accented voice. The voice was soothing, in a strange way. He spoke clearly, and for some reason I found myself not trying to run.

“Why were you after me if you weren’t going to hurt me? Who are you?” Was that even the right question to ask a skeleton? I changed it slightly, “What are you?” That question was no better.

“I was not after you, milady,” he said, holding up the sword, “I saw you had my sword, and wanted it back. I would have asked you politely, but you ran.” His empty eye sockets were disturbing. “As for what I am, I am alive. And I believe I owe you thanks for that.”

“Um, well, okay.” It was an accident, I guess, because I had no idea how I could have brought him to life. “Who are you?” I asked.

A name would have been nice. “Sir” something I was sure. Unless he was just a foot soldier or something. But, he looked to important to be just that.

The skeleton knight pushed his sword into it’s scabbard, “My name is Arthur Penndragon,” he said, calmly, “And you?”

“Arthur Penndragon?” I just stared, “King Arthur?”

“I was king. The last thing I remember was blacking out during a battle. I was wounded badly.”

“You died.”

“I died?” His head tilted, “You know this?”

Why I told him he had died I will never know. It just slipped out. “I knew... I mean, I heard of you.” I wiped sweat from my forehead. I was feeling anxious now. Thoughts were popping into my head a mile a minute! “I don’t know what I know!” I threw my hands in the air, “This is all unbelievable! I don’t know what to believe. If you are King Arthur, and you’re dead...um... were dead, then this must be the isle of Avalon.” Oh shit! The cup! I did bring him to life! I dropped the cup of water on his face! “The Holy Grail!” It did exist! And the sword must be Excalibur!

“Who are you?” Arthur asked. I could almost tell, if he had eyebrows, they would be pressed together low and centered.

“My name is Chloe. Chloe Garner.”

He might have said something like “pleased to meet you,” because he seemed polite enough, but we were interrupted by a distant roar. He looked over towards the pond, “Perhaps we should head back underground.”

I wasn’t going to argue, “yeah, maybe that’s a good idea.” Panic was welling up in me, “How many dragons are there?”

“I do not know. It is strange, as I had always heard that the dragons of Avalon were golden in color. These are not.” He motioned me to follow, as he shrugged his shoulders. I followed silently, unsure of anything to say.

We went back to the ruins and down steps. I knew where all the switches were for opening and closing the hidden doorways now. When we reached the torch lit room, I immediately went over and picked up the Grail, “This is so weird. I always thought all of this was just a story.”

“A story? What do you know?”

“Yeah,” I said placing the Grail back again, “King Arthur and his knights of the Round Table. Guinevere and Lancelot. Avalon. All stories. I know there may have been some historical truth, but not the magic part.”

Arthur put his head down, “You know of Guinevere?”

I covered my mouth and spoke through my fingers, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. If it makes you feel any better, I caught my husband with another woman. So I know how you feel.” I felt horrible.

He looked at me, “I am sorry.” I could hear the sincerity in his voice.

“It’s fine. I’m accepting it. My friends all tell me I’m better off. He was a cheater. Can’t be happy with a cheater, right?” That was quite enough of that conversation!

“How long have I been dead?”

That question caught me off guard, “Well,” I said, pausing. “According to legend, or at least the majority of stories, you were alive in the 5th or 6th century. Could be 3rd or 4th. I’m not sure. Might even be totally off there. And, well, this is the 21st century.”

“Oh my!” If he had eyes they would have been wide. He shook his head slowly.

“Yeah,” I said for him, “that’s a long time.”

“So, how did you get here?”

Ah, a chance to tell my story! Where to begin? “Well, it started as a vacation. I got kidnapped. Escaped from them. Had a boat accident and swam to shore.” That summed it up in a nutshell. “I was supposed to be having a good time. Trouble free.” I couldn’t help but chuckle, “Ironic, huh?”

I never expected a response. He was just as shocked as I was. About slightly different things I imagine, but still shocked. I’d be kind of shocked realizing I had been dead for centuries! I leaned against the wall with the spring. The stone was cool against my back. The Grail wall was now to my right and I glanced at it as I tried to stretch a kink out of my neck. I saw something just above the Grail hidey hole that I didn’t remember seeing before. It was the dragon circle design again, but this one was indented slightly. “I wonder,” I whispered as I pushed in on it.

I nearly fell backward as the wall behind me opened to reveal a standard door size opening. It was so close to the spring that the puddle leaked into it. “Another tunnel?”

Arthur reached up and grabbed a torch, “Let us see where it leads. I think, perhaps, we should keep moving. It might be possible that a dragon may have seen us come down here. It is always better to be one step ahead of your enemy.”

I didn’t argue. Hiding from dragons sounded great to me. I noticed Arthur’s hand as he held the torch up to peer into the dark tunnel. It was looking rather moist. Like it had been dipped in water, but I didn’t recall him going close to the spring. I nodded my head in agreement when he looked at me, and I reached down to grab the Grail, “I think we should take this. Don’t want them finding it and destroying it.” He just nodded and stepped in the tunnel. I followed.

I found myself looking for stone switches automatically. I found one when Arthur lit a wall-mounted torch. I shoved in on it and the wall closed behind us.

This tunnel was longer than the other one and seemed to slope downhill. I was very thankful for all the torches along the wall. The air was thin, so I took slow steady breaths. Did Arthur breathe? I wondered. He was a skeleton. But then again, he was wearing clothes, so I couldn’t tell if there were any lungs or other organs inside. And what was holding them in place if there were any organs there? I shook that nasty thought away. Gross!

We came to a stop at a dead end. Plain stone wall, just like the other tunnel. I didn’t see any protruding stone, so I ran my hand over the walls. I found an indented one and pushed. The dead end slid open. I wondered how many of these hidden passageways there were. Maybe there is a whole slew of them all over the island?

As Arthur busied himself lighting wall torches, I explored. It was another small room. This one had some stone benches, arranged like church pews. At the opposite end of the room was an altar. Just like the other one outside. In front of this one stood a pedestal. About 4 feet high. It was made of stone, just like everything else I’ve come across, and had upward pointing claws. Dragon claws, maybe? There were 3 claws, and 2 more that looked broken. I saw the broken tips on the ground. “Looks like something was here,” I pointed out as Arthur came over. “Something roundish, maybe? About the size of a basketball.”

“A what?”

“Never mind,” I said, shaking my head, “It’s a modern sport.” I didn’t want to have to start telling him about the changes over the years. Not at this particular time anyway.

He just tilted his head slightly, probably waiting for me to say more, but when I didn’t he walked over to the wall behind the altar. He was admiring some of the engravings. Some might have even looked familiar to him. He pressed in on a stone, and yet another wall slid open. This one was all stairway. “Stay here,” he said and went up.

I sat on one of the stone pews, placing the Grail on the floor by my foot. I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. I knew it was hunger. I still needed food. The last bit I ate was two mornings before. My breakfast before the tour. The little drink of water did help slightly. For a short while. I started to rub my aching belly when I saw Arthur come back, “What’s up there?” I asked.

“It leads to outside. But it is nightfall. I think it best to stay here until first light.” Arthur knelt down on one knee, “And, you look very tired. Perhaps you would like to take a rest?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Best to be able to see good in case there are dragons around. And I do feel drained.” Drained, exhausted, tuckered out, or whatever word described how I felt.

He unhooked his cape and passed it to me as he stood up, “Cover up and sleep, milady. I will guard you.”

That was so sweet! “Thank you,” I said taking the cape, “But aren’t you going to rest too?”

“I have been resting for centuries,” he laughed, “I think I am fine.”

I smiled, “Sorry. I forgot for a moment. It’s not like I raise the dead every day.”

We both laughed at that remark. It came out funny, even though I meant it. Seriously. He laid his moist, bony hand on my shoulder, “rest now.”

Gladly! I stretched out on the pew, pulling the cape over my shoulders. Using my arm as a pillow, I closed my eyes and tried to relax. It would take a while for me to fall asleep, I knew that. My stomach was crampy. It was a lot more comfortable than the rocky beach, that’s for sure. I could hear Arthur shuffling around. Exploring the room, I guessed. I started to feel peaceful. Relaxed.

When I opened my eyes, I was laying on the hotel bed. “What the hell?” The phone rang. It was my wake up call! It had been a dream! Well, thank goodness! I showered, dressed, made sure I had what I needed and ran to the door. The tour was soon, and I needed to get some food. I pulled open the room door. There was a stone wall behind it. “Huh?” I slammed the door and ran over to the window. I could see small black dragons circling a pond. Burnt trees were everywhere. “Oh shit!” I said as I drew the curtains closed and ran to the washroom.

When I opened the door and stepped in, I found myself in the room with Arthur’s tomb. He was in it! Dead! “Arthur?” I whispered near his skull. No response. I dashed over to where the Grail was supposed to be. It wasn’t there. But of course not! I had brought it to the other room! There was no water trickling from the wall either. What was going on?

The walls started shaking. Stone was cracking. The ceiling caved in as a dragon came down through it. A rock hit me over the head. Sharp pain. Blackness.

I sat up screaming. A hand grabbed my shoulder and I jumped off the pew, “Who are you? Where am I?” I was confused. Disoriented.

“You were dreaming, milady,” Arthur said, reassuringly. I could see that a layer of muscle had formed over his hands and face. “It is morning now. It has been for some time, but I did not wish to wake you.”

“I wish you had woke me,” I said, wiping away the sweat as it trickled down my face, “What a terrible nightmare.” I started to wonder then, what was a dream and what was a reality. Can a person dream in a dream? Maybe I didn’t really come out of the boat accident okay? I could be in a coma in some hospital!

“May I ask you something, milady?”

I snapped out of my daze, “sure.”

“I have been wondering, what do you know about my knights and I. You spoke of stories.”

“Oh, there are many stories,” I said, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “Different quests. Including the quest for the Holy Grail. Some stories about individual knights. Many different versions of your life. No one seems to be able to figure out the truth. Some say you really did exist. Others say you didn’t. And, still others say you did, but not as a king, but a general or something.” I wasn’t planning on going into too much detail. “There is even supposed to be a grave site containing the remains of you and your queen, Guinevere. But it can’t be you if you’re here.”

“Lancelot, probably,” Arthur said hanging his head.

Curiosity! “What happened?”

“It is a hard story.”

Okay, I can accept that. I don’t really like talking about my ex either. “Okay.” But there was one thing I wanted to know. Needed to know. “Can you just answer one question? A one-word answer is all that’s needed and I won’t ask anything else for a while. Promise.” At least I think I promise. Another question might pop in my head at any time.

Arthur nodded.

“This is a strange question, but... Was Modred your son, or your nephew?” I did feel very awkward asking that.

The muscle surrounding his eye sockets opened wide, “There is a question of that?” I nodded. “He was my nephew! His mother is my sister, Morgana. His father was Sir Accolon, one of my knights.”

“You died in battle with him, right?”

“Yes. He was the youngest of my nephews. He knew I had no heir to the throne. He thought because he was the youngest, he was the most fit to take the crown. I had planned to hold a joust amongst all my nephews. The winner would be the one to take the throne if something should happen to me.” Arthur ran his hand back and forth over the top of his head, clearly using the chainmail coif to scratch with. “He knew he could not win, so he challenged me. Gathered an army of Saxons to help him take Camelot.”

“I am probably the only person to know that is the truth.” That knowledge made me smile.

“How could anyone think he was my son?”

“Stories say how you were tricked into sleeping with Morgana, either by the cover of masks or by her own magic. She made herself appear to you as Guinevere.”

“Well! That is quite the story! For one thing, Modred was born before I married Guinevere. And for another thing, not one of the women I have ever shared a bed with ever gave birth. I have no children. Not one.” Arthur rubbed the back of his neck, “Come now,” he said, changing the subject. “I saw a well just outside last night. Perhaps you would like to freshen up?”

I stretched, “yes, I would.” I’d actually like to take a nice hot shower, but I doubt very much that was possible. A sink wash...err... well wash, would have to do. I handed him back his cape and helped him re-attach it to his shoulders. “Thank you,” I said.

“You are welcome, milady,” he said. He smiled. I could tell. It was, after all, the facial muscles that made facial expressions possible. I really hope that I didn’t offend him too much, with all the talk of Modred possibly being his son.

I picked up the Grail and followed Arthur up the steps. We came out of a large boulder. Nice place to hide a door, I thought. There were lots of vines over the entrance that we had to push out of the way. I’m guessing they were full of leaves and blossoms at one time. I tried to picture it. It would have been lovely. I saw an old stone well about 20 feet away. It was a typical well. There was some smashed up wood to the side of it, so I assumed that used to be the top. Probably one of those nice peaked roofs. I hoped the water was good. I needed something to drink. I wanted food, but that would be near impossible. I wondered, how long could someone go without food?

When we got closer to the well, I noticed there was no bucket. Well, there was, but it too was smashed up by the side of the well. “So much for getting some water,” I said peeking inside. Way too deep to reach in.

“We could make our way back to the lake,” Arthur said.

“That pond?” Well, of course, I thought. That’s the only other body of water here.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Arthur? Is that you?” A haunting, female voice echoed up from the well. I jumped back in fright as Arthur drew Excalibur from its scabbard.

“Show yourself!” He yelled.

“I am Nimue,” the voice replied. “Do you not know who I am?”

Arthur nearly dropped his sword, “The Priestess of Avalon!”