Alpha Omega 02 - Hunting Ground

had a sword in one hand and it was raised at a slightly more than forty-five-degree angle.
    Arthur touched the clear covering over the figure with gentle fingers. “As you can see, it depicts Arthur fighting with Excalibur.”
    Anna couldn’t see why he was so sure it was Arthur until she took a good look at the sword. Of the word that had once been stitched on the blade there were only three letters left. An “x,” a “k,” and a “u.” She had to admit that she couldn’t think of many words that someone would stitch on a sword with those particular letters.
    â€œHe looks pretty unhappy,” Anna commented. “I wonder what he was chasing.”
    â€œIt might be anything,” said Arthur. “He was the Champion of England and fought dragons and other beasts as well as defending his homeland from the Saxons.”
    The first display case was filled with a double handful of Roman artifacts. Anna suspected some of what he had was illegal. Though maybe a stone from Hadrian’s Wall had been okay to take back in the days when Arthur had originally collected it.
    The second case held a chain-mail shirt covered with a bright blue tunic emblazoned with three silver crowns.
    â€œThat’s a replica,” Sunny said. “Though it is still worth several thousand dollars. The cloth was woven according to traditional methods and dyed with natural vegetable dyes, the silver thread is real silver, and the mail shirt is handmade.” She touched the case. “It’s King Arthur’s coat of arms—or at least what he should have worn on his shield, anyway.”
    â€œArthur’s coat of arms,” Anna said dubiously. She doubted the real Arthur had ever worn chain mail; maybe the British Master had read Le Morte d’Arthur a few times too many.
    Sunny nodded. “King Arthur, not my Arthur. But my Arthur didn’t want to use his own family’s coat of arms—”
    â€œA pig,” said Arthur over Sunny’s shoulder.
    â€œA boar,” said Sunny, unperturbed. “There are still some members of his family about who might recognize him . . . a younger cousin and his littlest sister.”
    â€œWho is eighty-four, this coming May,” Arthur spoke with obvious affection. “I’d visit her, but she’s still sharp as a tack and can shoot skeet without wearing glasses. So I chose The King’s coat of arms.”
    He said it with implied capital letters, as if there had never been another king.
    â€œThere were no coats of arms back in the era of Arthur,” said Charles. “Wasn’t he supposed to be sixth century?”
    â€œOr late fifth,” agreed Arthur. “The hero of the battle of Mount Badon, and that was in 518 or so. Heraldry and all its trappings were much later. Still, there is a tradition. . . . and I had the whole thing made for fun, anyway.” His eyes were dreamy. Anna wondered if he wore it and played with the sword he’d dug up when no one was around to see him.
    Her older brother used to sneak downstairs at night and take the old Civil War cavalry sword her father had hung up on the wall over the fireplace and fight invisible foes. And once, memorably, his little sister, whom he’d armed with a broom. She’d gotten sixteen stitches—and he a broken nose. Men, she thought, had a strange yen for long, pointy, sharp things. She kept her smile to herself.
    â€œNow for the pièce de résistance. ” Arthur paused. “I often find that people are disappointed with Excalibur. I think it is because of all the movies. This is not a prop, it is a weapon made for killing.”
    He went down to one knee and moved the carpet and pulled up a section of hardwood flooring. Underneath was a floor safe. He put his hand flat on the safe, and after a moment it beeped and opened in a slow, steady motion. Inside was a narrow wooden case a little more than three feet long.
    He picked it up and set it on top of the display table. The case itself was beautiful, a handcrafted blend of light and dark woods.
    He opened the latches that kept the case closed and took the top completely off.
    And she understood why a man might think that this . . . this was Excalibur. It bore as much resemblance to her father’s cavalry sword as a jaguar to a lion—both very effective predators.
    Arthur’s Excalibur was shorter and wider than her father’s blade—and it was