A New Take On The Arthurian Legend [FICTOID]
“Pump the poison into the lake,” Mordred said.
“Are you sure this will kill her? She’s magical, you know.”
“After the poison, depth charges.”
“Ah. That might work.”
The big tanker trucks rolled up and began pumping their foul toxic loads: Agent Orange, arsenic, cyanide, mercury, strychnine, a whole list of death dealing chemicals.
The lake became a festering cauldron of corruption. The grass along the lakeshore withered almost immediately. Fish and frogs began floating belly up.
Still, no sign of the lady of the lake.
“Are you sure she’s there?” Morgan la Fey asked.
Mordred glared at her. “As sure as I am that Arthur is an orphan.”
“You obsess over him.”
“And you don’t? Your behavior is disgraceful, it’s the talk of Avalon.”
Morgan la Fey eyed him coldly. “I should take a crossbow to you.”
“Go ahead. Do your worse.”
Morgan la Fey rolled up her sleeves in preparation of casting a spell on her rival but before she could, a shot rang out and she pitched forward, dead.
Mordred dropped his hand to his sword hilt but dared not draw his blade.
Ten score peasants emerged from the mist enfolding them, each carrying an AK-47 assault rifle.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“The new lords and masters of Avalon,” said the peasant at the front of the mob. “No kings, no monarchs, no knights, no nobility.
“Just we the people.”
“Begone!” Mordred said, hoping to bluff his way out. “You have no legitimate claim.”
“The lady of the lake doesn’t care about your so-called ‘legitimacy’,” said the peasant. “She’s moved to a new lake, she’s creating a new nation.”
“Then I wish her well,” sighed Mordred.
“A new nation with a new government,” said the peasant. “And with this new government, new weapons. No longer swords in the hands of the few, but guns in the hands of the people.”
Mordred drily licked his lips. “What do you plan to do?”
“Unlike knights, we believe in giving everyone a fair chance,” said the peasant. “You have a five second head start.”
© Buzz Dixon