The Sword of the Fifth Element

15

  The Shattered Sword

  The next day Gwynneth returned to her home by the lake deep in the forests to the north, and Calibur and Rosa went into the village and asked Padrafer for the use of Calibur’s old smithy by night. ‘Of course, old friend and master,’ replied Padrafer.

  So in secret, night after night together Calibur and Rosa forged one last sword, the Sword which Calibur had seen in vision so many times and now at last understood.

  Yet it was not a wholly new blade. For when he came back into his old smithy, Calibur remembered the fragments he had flung into a corner so long ago, and knew at last how he could reforge them. Going to the dusty corner, he brushed away the ashes and sweepings of the years. And there were the fragments, still bearing the marks of his youthful hammering, unrusted.

  And he reforged the sword with Rosa’s help, she hammering on the left side and he on the right. For it was now balanced, a magical sword of the Quintessence.

  When the blade was finished they marvelled at its power; it shimmered with the power of Truth, as before when Calibur had first made it, but now it was unbreakable, being infused with Love.

  Next they made the hilt out of wood from the Jewel-trees of Aeden, set with the great emerald from Avalon in the end of it. On the emerald were runes of power, and not even Calibur could read them, but the Old Man of Avalon had received them from the Makers, and would only say that they told of the mysteries of Atlantis and Logres and the Fifth Element, and the Beginning and End of all things, and the World that was, and is, and is to come. The rounded end Calibur made the hilt-end, just as he had seen, and the pointed crystal end he set into the tang so that the emerald and the steel were one. Then he bound the hilt with silver wire and gold, plaited into a marvellous pattern depicting the interwoven wouivres of earth and sky.

  Then Rosa wove a scabbard of silk and strong leather to hold the sword, and Calibur inlaid it with silver and wrote on it the runes of the Five Elements.

  When all this was done, Calibur took the sword and Rosa the scabbard, and in solemn ritual the two were joined, Male and Female, Sky and Earth, Truth and Love. Then, exhausted, they fell down and slept for a day and a night.

  But in the night Calibur had a dream, and Gwynneth appeared to him, standing by her lake deep in the forests of the north, and his heart was strangely stirred. The next day, though still tired, he took the Sword and journeyed to the lake. Gwynneth rejoiced when she saw him, and embraced him warmly.

  Then she asked, ‘Is this at last your Sword of Truth?’

  ‘No, I do not name it so, now that Rosa and I have

  made it.’

  ‘Then what is its name?’

  ‘I call it only the sword of the Fifth Element, as it came of the union of two opposites: Rosa and myself. Now at last may I have peace, having fulfilled my destiny!’ he sighed.

  ‘Or have you?’ said Gwynneth, her eyes shining with a new light, or one which Calibur had not seen before. ‘Perhaps now our destinies may at last run together,’ she was saying, looking deep into his eyes. Take the sword, and ride to victory over the enemy, and together let us found Logres!’ She took his hands, and she had never appeared more beautiful to Calibur, and he imagined their bliss as they created a magical kingdom together. At last she desired to be with him as he had desired her! He felt the full power of her enchantment, by which once she had seduced the rich and the powerful.

  But with a great effort he replied, ‘Remember your own words of wisdom to me, long ago, when I wanted to stay with you always! And, even if Rosa would permit it, I have no desire now to wield this weapon. Into its making has gone all the strength of my youth. It must wait for another. And Rosa

  is waiting.’

  Gwynneth’s warm smile turned to ice, and she let go of his hands abruptly. ‘Coward!’ he heard her say, but there was a roaring in his ears and her voice sounded strange and distant. Then he fainted, overcome with shock at her betrayal, and still exhausted from the forging of the Sword. He fell at her feet as one dead. Gwynneth took the Sword and ran along the lakeshore in grief and anger. ‘I have borne no child; let this sword be my child!’ she cried to the skies. The clouds were dark, and thunder growled in the hills about the lake.

  As Calibur lay unconscious, he felt a strong hand raise him up. It was the Old Man of Avalon, pointing over the darkened mists of the lake. Calibur looked, and saw a vision of the future, and a beautiful castle, and all the glory of Logres that was to come, and he wept for joy at the sight.

  And the Old Man said, ‘Well done! Now you must guard the Sword, for the time is not yet for it to be wielded, nor will it be in your lifetime. So it is not even given to you to name it, only to watch over it.’ And he showed Calibur what he must do, and faded into the mist.

  Then Calibur awoke, and there was indeed a mist on the lake, and an anvil-stone stood by the lakeshore where he had seen the castle. Finding that the sword was gone, he was about to cry out, when he saw Gwynneth approaching along the lakeshore, weeping, bearing the Sword, still safe in its scabbard. She, too, had seen the Old Man. She handed the Sword back to him, and he forgave her for taking it, and for her harsh words. Then he told her what he must now do, and she bowed her head. ‘As the Goddess wills,’ she murmured.

  Summoning all the magical power of the Quintessence, Calibur plunged the sword into the sacred anvil-stone, glowing white-hot as it entered, showering sparks and making the stone glow redly. Then sword and stone gradually cooled, to rest as one until a time that he would not live to see.

  ‘The Sword of the God must not be separated from the Stone of the Goddess, except by one who is yet to come, who will serve the mystery of their true union,’ he said.

  ‘And it will be kept forever safe from the hands of those who seek power over others. And I, knowing all too well the seduction of power, will become the guardian of this treasure, and be known as the Lady of the Lake, and my descendants after me. But I will not live to see the day when it is drawn from the stone. So said the Old Man to me,’ replied Gwynneth.

  They spoke a little more, of things past and things to come, and how best to preserve the Sword and its scabbard, and all the wisdom they had learned. Then Calibur took his leave of the Lady of the Lake, and turned his face toward home, and Rosa.

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