"The Coming Arthur" by Kenton Adler, Third Place, 2018

The Coming of Arthur

by Kenton Adler

Third Place, 2018

At the Feast of Christ, a trial
to measure men by strength and guile.
Some from every kingdom came
to try a hand, and make a name. 

A tournament, by Merlin called
to draw together great and small
that by a test of steel on steel
true mettle might there be revealed.

Sir Ector and his entourage
sought a place wherein to lodge.
His own son, Kei, though young in years
would try himself against his peers.

Snow lay soft upon the ground
and on the streets of London town.
Then, weirdly, in Westminster yard
appeared a stone that held a sword.

 The lesser-known dukes, earls, and knights
each stood to prove his worth and might.
For he who drew that sword from stone
would sit upon the British throne.

Every noble knight assailed
the stone and sword, and each man failed.
So, leaving there the Heaven-sent,
they turned once more toward tournament.

 Horses thundered.  Sword and shield
flashed until a foe might yield.
As his turn came Kei, alarmed
realized he’d come unarmed.

His weapon somehow left behind,
     adopted brother sent to find.
The inn was locked. He knocked for naught.
Nowhere could a sword be bought.

Young Wart wept open in dismay.
He could not aid his brother, Kei.
Walking empty streets, he cried,
Until Westminster church he spied.

A light from high above now shone
upon the sword thrust in a stone.
Caring not for consequence,
he grasped the hilt and pulled it hence.

 He swung it once around his head
marveling at the balanced blade.
This sword would meet his brother’s need,
and so he set forth with all speed.

 Through deserted streets and down,
to the crowded tilting ground.
Arthur did his brother greet,
the sword placed at the other’s feet.

Kei recognized at once the thing.
“The sword is mine,” he cried.  “I’m KING!”
Sir Ector said, “Upon your life!”
“How came you by this noble knife?”

 Unto his father Kei spoke truth.
He pointed to the nearby youth.
“My foster brother brought it me,
and he by right the king ought be.”

 Then Ector led his untried sons
back to where the deed was done,
and faithful stepson once again
settled sword where it had been.

Calling for the Bishop’s aid
The knights and lords once more were bade
return unto that holy ground
to test the blade where it was bound.

 Each of them unto the last
attempted, but the stone held fast.
When all had tried, and none prevailed,
Ector then his ward unveiled.

 “No blood of mine, this noble youth,”
the elder knight revealed forsooth,
but son of Uther, raised by me
behind a shroud of secrecy.”

 Then at last his name was called,
And Arthur stood before them all.
There before their wondering eyes
he effortlessly drew the prize.

Sheriffs, lower kings, and earls
took to knee, and banners furled.
Some began to cry and sing,
“Hail to Arthur, rightful King!”

And so it was within that hour
chivalry began to flower.
The rising of an empire’s sun.
The age of Arthur had begun.