To My Here Is In Perpy Something

“What is that, Psycho? Give it to me. Give!”

“No Psycho, I am not going to chase you. Drop it now!”

Psycho Motor Dabrowski had just bolted in through the door of Malory Tennyson’s Cloudbank Cabin for Arthurian Studies with what appeared to be a scabbard in his mouth and was now refusing to hand it over to his mistress, Little Plump Jo, the current Artisan in Residence in the cabin.

“What is that? Where did you get it?”

Psycho Motor could not pretend to misunderstand Jo, who had the ability to communicate with animals and fictional characters. He dropped it; but stood over it, claiming ownership.

“Isn’t it cool! I found it under Sir Lancelot du Lac’s bed.

I was looking for my bone. There was snow all over the grass where I thought I left it and it was too cold to dig for it. I remembered having a bone by the river but I couldn’t find that one either. Maybe it fell in the water and got washed away; or maybe I buried it somewhere else.

Anyhoo, then I remembered leaving a bone under Sir Lancelot’s bed and I went to get that one. But it was gone too. Sir Lancelot must have eaten it as a midnight snack. So, then I found this under the bed and thought that would be a fair exchange.

It has all sorts of cool stuff in it. Sir L. must like sparkly rocks, like I do. And there are pieces of hide or something, like my chew toys, with words on them.”

“You can’t just take things, Psycho. We will have to give it back” said Little Plump Jo. But she was curious about the parchment with the writing on it. “Let me see what the writing says”.

Psycho Motor continued to stand over his prize and growled a bit. He squinted at the parchment with his head on one side.

“It says To My Here Is In Perpy Something, Pre-zontal Zimons, Specimens and What not” he barked, imitating the overbearing, authoritative stance and tone of voice of the Border Collie, Intellectual Dabrowski.

“Pass it here!” growled Intellectual, giving Psycho Motor a cuff across the ears with his paw.

“It says To my Heirs in Perpetuity

I bequeath, upon my death, my kingdom in my own lands beyond the narrow sea and all my worldly wealth; with the exception of these diamonds, won by me in the Camelot Diamond Tournaments, which are to be set as a necklace in gold and given to our gracious sovereign lady, Her Majesty Queen Guinevere.

This is my final will and testament as at this day………… in…………..

Signed at …………. in the presence of……………..

“It is Sir Lancelot’s final will and testament” said Jo. “you must put it back where you found it”.

“But it has not been dated and witnessed, so it is probably not a valid final will” barked Intellectual.

“And the knights all rode out somewhere yesterday in a highly dramatic manner to do something mysterious and potentially dangerous” woofed Sensual Dabrowski. “What happens if he dies? Do you think he has an earlier proper will somewhere?”

The previous day Regina Penman, the secretary of the ARC Arthurian Readers Club, caretakers of Malory Tennyson’s Cloudbank Cabin for Arthurian Studies, Little Plump Jo, the current Artisan in Residence and her canine writing companions, the Dabrowski Dogs, had witnessed the leave taking in the Fog Lake from the porch of the cabin. Psycho Motor Dabrowski was splashing in the shallows of the Fog Lake at the foot of the cabin with Regina’s Giant Schnoodles, Fact and Fiction.

“Remember, meet me at the North Star”.

“No, Lancelot! Promise me you will live and come back to me”.

“Milady, you know I cannot promise you that. But if I die, you must be brave and rule with Arthur. My kin will always protect you. And I will wait for you. It does not matter how long it will be. I will be there at the North Star, waiting for you.”

The soft mists of the Fog Lake swirled in around the couple, forming a steadily closing heart shaped frame, until it enveloped them completely.

When the fog lifted again a line of knights could be seen riding out from the castle to create a silhouette along the horizon.

“Comme une ligne noire as Leconte de Lisle would say” barked Intellectual Dabrowski. “Quite cinematic! Cue the inspiring Wagner, Carl Orff or Hans Zimmer music”

They had debated the possible adventure the knights were undertaking and the relevance of the reference to the North Star.

“It would not be the Quest for the Holy Grail. Galahad has not arrived at court yet. Maybe it is a war in the North?” Jo had said.

“Not one of Arthur’s twelve glorious wars” Intellectual had stated firmly. “King Arthur did not ride out with them this time. And anyway, I contend that Sir Lancelot would not have been one of Arthur’s original warriors in those battles.”

“Malory Tennyson says he was; and, as we are in his cabin, we go by his rules” Jo said.

“Yes, My Cabin – My Rules!” Malory Tennyson had rumbled from the background.

“And what was all that about meeting at the North Star?” Regina had asked.

“Apparently Sir Lancelot and Queen Guinevere always semi-jokingly bid each other farewell with the words ‘Meet me at the North Star!’ It is a bit like ‘See you later, Alligator!’ But it takes on a more serious tone if Lancelot is riding out to battle or on a dangerous quest. They are apparently under the impression that, if they die, they can wait for each other among the stars and then seek entrance to or rejection from Heaven together” Jo had replied.

“But why the North Star?” Regina had asked.

Intellectual had immediately commenced a lengthy astronomy dissertation.

“The North star is in the constellation of Ursa Major, the Big Bear. The stars of Ursa Major are called Arthur’s stars. The constellation is visible for most of the year, from almost the whole world.

It contains The Big Dipper, a group of stars that are shaped like a cooking pot and the North Star is on the handle of the cooking pot. The North Star points to the magnetic North Pole.

Ursa Major was often used as a navigational tool by sailors and travellers who used it to find north before compasses were invented. Looking for the North Star as a direction sign was probably something Sir Lancelot’s foster mother, the Lady of the Lake, instilled in him when he was young.”

“But as an adult,” Jo had said, “he has encountered Near Death Experiences when he was seriously wounded where he wandered among the stars. Rosalind Miles wrote about it her book The Knight of the Sacred Lake. Lancelot now believes that before passing into Heaven there will be a time of wandering among the stars.”

“How many diamonds are there?” Intellectual Dabrowski asked now.

“Five.”

“There are nine Camelot Diamond Tournaments.

So, I believe this is just going to be a codicil to Sir Lancelot’s will.” Intellectual suggested. “If this were the actual will, the exact locations and dimensions of his lands beyond the narrow sea should be more accurately described.

And I further suggest that he intends to add this codicil when he has collected all nine of the Camelot Tournament diamonds. As Tennyson says:

With purpose to present them to the Queen,

When all were won; but meaning all at once

To snare her royal fancy with a boon

Worth half her realm,

“Does the fact that there are only five diamonds won so far indicate where the legends are up to in this iteration of reenactments in the Fog Lake? Can we work out from that where the knights were all going yesterday?” asked Emotional Dabrowski.

“No, not really” barked Intellectual “But it could be helpful to know the significance of the presence of Fact and Fiction in the Fog Lake yesterday.”

“How so?”

“I am assuming that they must be Chekhov’s Gundogs. If they are not important and relevant to the situation, why mention them at all?