succession

Reads: 404  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 2

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
excaliber is found by metal detectorist

Submitted: June 07, 2009

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 07, 2009

A A A

A A A


Succession
 
 
Bill eased his ageing fiesta off the A456 and onto the farm track up to Rotten Row farm. The most difficult part of successful metal detecting is not finding objects, they’re everywhere, it’s not identifying them, there are a multitude of book’s listing every possible find, no the hardest part was finding a farmer willing to let you dig little holes ‘willy nilly’ all over the place, that’s where he’d had a stroke of luck Mr Bayliss’s wife had lost her wedding ring and Bill had got to hear about it. His luck had been running that day and he had found it after only an hour. This had won him Clifford’s undying gratitude and the run of the farm any time he liked. As he reached the farmyard Clifford was just about to leave but he stopped the tractor to have a chat.
“Mornin Bill.”
“Mornin Clifford, how are you.”
“Oh mustn’t grumble.”
“Any chance of a look today?”
“Oh I should think so, we’ve just harrowed the ‘big hollow’, I don’t think anyone’s ever bin over that with a detector before. Any luck recently?”
“Last week as a matter of fact, a nice Richard 2nd half crown.”
“You gonna find one of them hoards today?”
“You never know,’ said Bill laughing.”
“Oh well good luck to you, if you follow that track it’ll take you through the wood and over the ridge, the big hollow is on the other side you can’t miss it, probably all you’ll find is fish bones they do say as it used to be a lake, but it was drained more than a hundred year ago, sorry I can’t stop I got a lot of seed drillin to do, see you.”
“See you Clifford and thanks.”
The huge red tractor rumbled out of yard and Bill waved as it disappeared. Hmm a lake that might be O.K. Bill knew the Celt’s used to drop little metal objects into water as gift’s to their heathen god’s they were called ‘votive offering’s and worth a packet. He followed the track which became rougher and more potholed the further he went, Bill winced as the exhaust pipe grated over a rock, but eventually he made it without any mishap’s to the gateway that opened onto the ‘big hollow’, which was exactly what it was, a very large hollow, a hundred acre’s of freshly harrowed soil just waiting for him, this was the best part he reflected as he sat on the car’s passenger seat and changed into his wellies, the anticipation.
Two hour’s had gone by, and the sun had risen toward it’s zenith and all he had to show for it was a few rusty nail’s and a horseshoe, he was approaching the centre of the field, the deepest part of the hollow when he got a nice clear signal, yes there it was again the detector beeped and the needle on the gauge jumped wildly, whatever it was it was big. Bill put down the detector and began to dig, not for the first time he wished he’d been able to afford one of those new detector’s, the one’s with the screen, them bugger’s would tell you what an object was made of and how far down you’d have to dig. After ten minute’s he’d excavated quite a large hole but still nothing, this couldn’t be right, he knew his detector wouldn’t work over a depth of about eight inch’s and he was already more than eighteen inch’s down, but still the beep and the quickly jumping needle, oh well keep going, ‘clink’ ahh that’s it a glint of metal shining up from the dark red clay, a big something. Bill cleared more of the soil away carefully using his hand’s, the clay sticking to his finger’s and forcing it’s way beneath his nail’s, the more he saw the more excited he became, a sword, a bloody great sword. He managed to get his fingers underneath and gently pulled it loose. Sudden disappointment flooded through Bill, this couldn’t be right, a frown wrinkled his forehead as he brushed more of the soil away the sword glinted in the sunlight, no rust not a speck, in fact no corrosion of any kind, jewel’s glinted and shimmered from the encrusted hilt. It looked new, shiny and new perhaps Clifford was having him on and had buried it for him to find. No that didn’t work, the clay it had been buried in was compacted and showed no sign of disturbance, there was no doubt in Bill’s mind, this thing had been buried for years. Maybe it was stainless steel, no that wasn’t it either. He looked more closely at it marvelling at the detail of the hilt, it was in gold, it was covered in dragon’s and serpent’s sensuously intertwined in an unmistakeably Celtic style, and the rubies, sapphire’s , and emerald’s all sparkled in the way glass doesn’t. At this point the sword spoke to him.
“I am Excalibur, King Arthur’s sword.”
It wasn’t a real voice; it was hollow sounding and arrived directly in his head without going via his ears. Bill jumped like a shot rabbit and dropped the sword as if it was red hot and had burnt him. The sword fell point first and stuck in the ground where it stood. For a moment Bill felt as if he were being scrutinised
“Be not afraid,” it intoned, “for you are now the true and rightful King of England.”
“You what?” Said Bill pinching himself, “Oww that hurt.”
“Are you not William Smithson?”
“My name is Bill Smith, yes.”
“Then you are the true and rightful King, your reign has been destined for three thousand year’s.”
Bill had heard the phrase ‘to go weak at the knee’s’ but had never actually experienced it himself before. He sat down with his feet in the hole and his bum on it’s edge and tried to get a handle on thing’s.
“I can’t be King,” he said shaking his head, “being hounded by the paparazzi, flying around in helicopters what with my fear of heights, besides we’ve already got a king, I mean queen.” .
“You let your country be run by a woman?” The sword managed to sound appalled.
“You have been buried a long time.”
“You shall usurp her and rule as king.”
“Usurp the queen?”
“Yes, slay her or take her as a concubine.”
“Take the queen as a concubine!” The full horror complete with mental pictures fled past Bill’s mind’s eye.
“If you wish, you shall be all powerful, you shall be king. All Briton’s will do your bidding.”
“I can’t go usurping the queen, I’ll be arrested, they’ll stick me in jail and throw away the key, that’s treason, they’ll cut off my head.”
“A vast army will flock to your banner, none shall be able to withstand you, you shall hack and slay, glory and victory await you, you shall stand on a hill of the carcasses of your fallen foes.”
“Fuck me.” said Bill covering his eye’s with his hands. “I don’t want to kill people, I don’t want to hack and slay.”
“What manner of warrior are you?”
“I’m not a warrior I’m a welder,” wailed Bill.
“Nevertheless it is your destiny.”
Bill stood up grabbed the sword and threw it in the hole and quickly buried it again, jumping up and down franticly trying to compact the soil, picking up his detector he smashed it repeatedly against the ground, bit’s of plastic, wire’s and batteries showered down.
“Bugger destiny.” said Bill as he roared off to a pint and well earned obscurity.
 
 
THE END
.
 


© Copyright 2020 Richard M Bromley. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar