The Economy of Excaliburs by Owen Townend

Excalibur washed up at Hollingworth Lake. I was down by the shore, feeding ducks at the time. All of a sudden, the sword bobbed up and sent them squawking away. 

           I could tell what it was on sight, ancient and grandiose. The hilt was very plain considering the legend; bronze rather than gold. At least the quartz in its pommel had retained some lustre, if not any real colour. There were quite a few noticeable rust marks along the blade itself too. Considering coastal erosion, I would say Excalibur did well to look so good.

It took me a minute to realise that I could raise it. Did that mean I was King of England now? Arthur's rightful successor? Not too likely. I had glanced at my Auntie's copy of the family tree. She insisted our roots began sometime during the Jacobean era.

Nevertheless, I felt like an absolute badass. I swung the sword around a bit: “Take that, Morgan le Fey! And that, Mordred!” Did Arthur have another enemy with a name beginning with ‘Mor’? I didn’t let that stop me, just kept stabbing and slashing at imaginary invaders. Realising that the sun was finally setting, I sheathed the sword in a Sainsburys bag and rushed on home.

When I got in the door, I called out to my Auntie: "Are you sure we're the Pendergrasses and not the Pendragons?"

She was bolt upright in her paisley lounge chair; fingernails digging into the armrests. Her glasses were perched precariously at the end of her nose as she watched the TV. She glanced at me. "Have you seen this?" She pointed at the evening news.

I saw footage of a little old Jamaican lady talking about the Lord's message whilst waggling around her own sword. Same bronze hilt, same quartz pommel. "That can't be..."

"It is though!" Auntie spoke with a flutter in her voice. "Excali-" At last she turned to me fully and saw the sword in my hands. Her mouth dropped. "You too?"

"Apparently so," I muttered. I read the banner at the bottom of the screen as it scrolled left to right with more Excalibur discoveries in Loch Lomond, Tardebigge Lake, Bala Lake and Lough Ree. Of course, the BBC trained their cameras on the Excalibur that rose from The Serpentine in London.

"What the hell is happening?" Auntie said.

"Some kind of joke, I wouldn't wonder," I said. "Unless the Lady of the Lake made a  surplus supply of swords."

"Who knew she even existed?"

I stopped speaking, too angry to even speculate. It's like when you’re really little and discover something special only to go out on the playground the next day to find everyone else has it too. No big deal.

While Auntie stayed up late to watch Arthurian documentary after Arthurian documentary on BBC4, I went to bed early. I already had my fill of all that and just wanted time to sleep and recover from the emotional rollercoaster of the past few hours.

Before I switched off the light, I propped Excalibur up against my nightstand. It’s not a round table but the top is oval. The bastard sword slid off almost immediately.

Next morning at the dining table, I startled Auntie by finally speaking up. Her grape fruit squirted all over my Weetabix.

"Either we're all the rightful heirs to a mythical king or these swords are worthless."

Auntie watched as I drummed my fingers on the quartz pommel. She winced at the blade that was scuffing her sheepskin rug. "Has it done anything magical?"

"No."

"Does it feel magical?"

I sighed. "Not anymore." 

Auntie tried to be solemn, looking down at the red juice stain on her table mat. Still she came up giggling.

"You say worthless like you've had a big loss in the stock market." She winked. "You have a sword, love, not a share."

It took me a moment but I did give up my scowl. "Bang goes the economy of Excaliburs, I suppose."

We chuckled a bit then checked the news. All in all, only ten Excaliburs were found. At least I was part of an exclusive club.

Since then the press has called. We're all to gather at Arthur's tomb in Glastonbury for a special national news feature. We'll raise our swords and pose for the cameras. Who knows: maybe something significant will happen. If not, at least the day will rule…