Wilbur looked up and shrank away from the armored giant on horseback who towered over him and the old man. The giant raised the visor of his helmet and Wilbur beheld a face that was as cruel as a hawk's. Dark eyes gleamed from beneath black and bristling brows.
"What mummery is this?" the dark man asked.
"No mummery, but the good bishop's prayer answered," Merlin said calmly. "Is not the stone inscribed, Sir Kay?"
"Inscribed," Sir Kay echoed. "And its message is that he who withdraws the sword shall be king of England."
His scowl made Wilbur's knees weaken, but Merlin remained unaffected. In fact the old man seemed quite cheerful.
"Excalibur it is called," Merlin said. "He who wrenches it free shall rule."
"Hear me," Sir Kay grated. "If this be one of your tricks, know this: none but a son of Uther Pendragon will reign."
For a moment Wilbur forgot the two. He had caught sight of the inscription of the stone and was reading it. Apparently it was meant to be a poem but it did not rhyme. On the spot Wilbur produced what he thought was a better one. He tried it out, not realizing he spoke aloud.
"Who from this stone Excalibur draws
Shall be England's king and make her laws."
Sir Kay frowned blackly and his hand hovered near a dagger at his side.