History of Baking
The Sword in the Stone
Text only version
“It’s just not fair,” grumbled the youth to himself as he stomped through the undergrowth in the woodland. “I am just as good as Kay, even if he is a knight and a year older. Why should I have to be his squire? Why can’t I be a knight and fight too? Hmmph! Bet I’d beat him - I usually do.” That thought made his eyes sparkle in his handsome young face.
Unseen, an odd looking old man smiled into his long white beard, as he hid nearby. “It’s definitely time,” he murmured, “time he knew the truth and claimed his inheritance.” He started muttering strange words.
The young man hurried on, head down, until he suddenly looked up and realized he did not know where he was. “I can’t be lost,” he turned round and round, frowning with worry. “My brother needs a sword, he can’t fight without a sword, I must get back to our tent and find his sword.”
He started to run up a nearby pathway, hoping to recognize something around him. He darted right, along another turning and came to a wide muddy track – which way, which way to turn? Desperately he turned right, saying to himself that it had to lead somewhere. He stumbled along the rutted route and suddenly found himself in front of an ancient church.
“Maybe there’s someone in there I can ask,” he thought and started running up the path to the heavy wooden door.
Suddenly his attention was caught by a huge stone monument on his left, with an anvil on top and sticking out of the anvil was an enormous sword. He could not believe his eyes. Was this real? He approached carefully, and yes, sure enough it was a very a handsome sword. The young man glanced around, no-one about. Perhaps it would be all right for him just to borrow it for his brother, who would not be able to take part in the festivities if he had no sword.
He approached closer, noticed some inscription which he did not bother to read, and quickly laid both hands upon the sword and tugged hard. The sword did not
Text only version
“It’s just not fair,” grumbled the youth to himself as he stomped through the undergrowth in the woodland. “I am just as good as Kay, even if he is a knight and a year older. Why should I have to be his squire? Why can’t I be a knight and fight too? Hmmph! Bet I’d beat him - I usually do.” That thought made his eyes sparkle in his handsome young face.
Unseen, an odd looking old man smiled into his long white beard, as he hid nearby. “It’s definitely time,” he murmured, “time he knew the truth and claimed his inheritance.” He started muttering strange words.
The young man hurried on, head down, until he suddenly looked up and realized he did not know where he was. “I can’t be lost,” he turned round and round, frowning with worry. “My brother needs a sword, he can’t fight without a sword, I must get back to our tent and find his sword.”
He started to run up a nearby pathway, hoping to recognize something around him. He darted right, along another turning and came to a wide muddy track – which way, which way to turn? Desperately he turned right, saying to himself that it had to lead somewhere. He stumbled along the rutted route and suddenly found himself in front of an ancient church.
“Maybe there’s someone in there I can ask,” he thought and started running up the path to the heavy wooden door.
Suddenly his attention was caught by a huge stone monument on his left, with an anvil on top and sticking out of the anvil was an enormous sword. He could not believe his eyes. Was this real? He approached carefully, and yes, sure enough it was a very a handsome sword. The young man glanced around, no-one about. Perhaps it would be all right for him just to borrow it for his brother, who would not be able to take part in the festivities if he had no sword.
He approached closer, noticed some inscription which he did not bother to read, and quickly laid both hands upon the sword and tugged hard. The sword did not