The Secret Key of Pythagorum

by Michele Angello

  “Let me see,” Savaric said impatiently, and reached over to lower the box down.

  Nestled in a shining, sinuous black silk bed rested an enormous red stone. Savaric stepped back in wonder. Ygierne took the precious gem out of its bed and held it up to the light. “I’ve never seen a ruby so large or so fine,” she said in wonder, turning it so that it caught the light.

  “It’s beautiful,” Arthur said, his voice softened in awe.

  “Can I hold it?” Savaric asked.

  “Of course,” Ygierne replied, handing it to him.

  Savaric held out his hands, his eyes widening as the weight of the gem fell into his hands. “It’s as heavy as a melon,” he said admiringly. He looked through the ruby at the torch across the chamber. “How brilliant.”

  “Well, we have one more treasure. Shall we see what it is?” Ygierne asked.

  “Yes, of course,” Arthur replied. “Let’s return the ruby to its safe box first.” He took the stone from Savaric and gently placed it in its bed of silk.

  Ygierne picked up the last object from the sandy cave floor. “Oh, quite heavy,” she said. Arthur had begun unwrapping it before, so the final wrappings fell to the floor quickly. In her hands lay a rectangular tablet of stone, its edges chiseled away to perfect straight lines. The face of the tablet held carved words placed into a square:

  “A piece of stone? And a wooden wheel? This isn’t much of a treasure,” Savaric said, disappointed.

  Arthur dusted off the face of the stone and ran his fingers in the grooves. “Mother, do you know these runes?”

  Ygierne’s forehead creased as she turned the stone toward her and leaned in for a closer look. “Sator, arepo, tenet, opera, rotas.” She paused for a moment. “This is the language of Latin,” she said slowly.

  “Look, it can be read in any direction.” She traced her thin fingers across the face of the stone from left to right, right to left, top to bottom, and bottom to top. “Very clever. I think I’ve seen these words carved in this way before. But where?” She paused for a moment. “Yes! It was in Corinium Dobunnorum when we went to form an alliance with King Cyndyddan.”

  “So there are at least two of these tablets of stone,” Arthur said thoughtfully. “What makes this one special enough to guard here?”

  “And what do the words mean?” said Savaric.

  “That’s difficult. The words can be interpreted in more than one way,” Ygierne replied. “The farmer Arepo works a plough, is one.”

  “That is hardly an earth-shattering revelation,” said Arthur wryly. “Who is Arepo?”

  “It’s getting heavy. I’m setting it down,” Ygierne said.

  The stone had only lain on the floor for a moment when they suddenly all saw it at the same instant.

  “The wheel!” Ygierne exclaimed, lunging toward the floor.

  “The indentation is the same as…” Savaric continued, dropping to his knees.

  “The size of the stone,” Arthur finished.

  Ygierne lifted the stone tablet and carefully dropped it into the indentation on the wheel. It slipped into place, fitting perfectly into its home in the wheel.

  “That is definitely where it belongs,” said Arthur. “The two were made for each other.”

  “Yes,” said Ygierne. “And if we can just interpret the runes properly, maybe they will do more than just look bonny nested together.”

  “Perhaps I can help with that,” a deep voice said from just behind them, a short way down the corridor.

  Savaric reverse crab-walked away from the center of the room and back to the cavern wall. When his back touched the wall, he reached for his elven-made knife.

  Arthur and Ygierne stood up and turned toward the entrance.

  A man with a full cloak wrapped all the way around him stood there, his face in shadow from his deep hood. He held a huge staff in his hand, its length curving with light carvings of runes and letters. The top of his staff held a round stone in the center that glowed and glittered in the dim light.

  “Merlin!” Ygierne and Arthur cried out together. They rushed over to him and embraced him together. Savaric’s jaw fell open.

  “Oh, oh. What a lovely welcome. A little birdy told me I might be of use here, so I started in this direction two days ago.”

  “You couldn’t have arrived at a better moment, old friend,” Ygierne said fondly.

  “What treasures do we have here?” said Merlin.

  “Well, young master Savaric doesn’t think they are much of anything, just a stone and a wooden wheel,” Arthur said, winking at Savaric.

  “Hello, Master Savaric. If all magical objects looked wonderful or fantastic, we wouldn’t be able to keep them safe and out of the wrong hands.”

  Savaric nodded mutely.

  Merlin knelt on the sandy cavern floor. “Ah yes, you’ve fit the Sator Square into the wooden wheel. As you said, Ygierne, we need to interpret the runes. The farmer Arepo works a plough, as you said. How else can we say it?” he muttered to himself. “The founder works for mastery by turning the wheel. The sower works for mastery by turning the wheel. Well, at least with one way you interpret it we need to turn the wheel.”

  Merlin placed his hand on the outside of the wooden wheel and tried to spin it. The wheel turned a little, but the sandy floor of the cavern stopped it after a few inches. He tried a few more times with no luck.

  “Let’s go outside and see if the surface is better out there.”

  Arthur nodded and turned down the corridor; the others followed. When they reached the end of the corridor, Ygierne passed over the portal, then floated over, up and out of sight. Merlin did the same. Arthur and Savaric looked at each other, shook their heads, and jumped into the water. Savaric looked back as he jumped, expecting to see the cloaked man readying himself to jump in the water behind him, but instead he saw the portal closing. The black figure stood taciturn and motionless just inside the portal. Before he could see any more, Savaric hit the water, and with the bubbles gushing around him, he struggled to get back to the surface quickly so he could see what had happened.

  Bursting through the surface, and carried by the current a few yards away from the bridge, he looked back and saw that the portal was completely closed—and looked just like the underbelly of a stone bridge again.

  Savaric swam for the shore and reached it in a few short strokes. Arthur stood on the shore watching for him, reaching down to help him out of the water. A small smile flickered around his lips as he clapped Savaric on the back. They climbed up the embankment and walked over to where Ygierne and Merlin stood. The wheel and the Sator Square lay on the ground at their feet.

  “It’s not turning outside either, Arthur. We’re missing something.”

  “We need all the pieces of the puzzle,” Merlin said. “What else have you found on this quest, lad?”

  An earsplitting war cry broke the relative stillness of the river flowing by and the wind rustling through the tall grass. They all turned toward the jarring sound, and Arthur’s hand went to Excalibur. A hulking man ran from the direction of the abandoned Banna, swinging a thick club in circles above his head. Arthur drew his sword and waited for a few seconds till the screaming creature reached them, moving forward to put himself between the man and the rest of the group. Merlin and Ygierne pulled out their wands and stood ready.

  The man landed a running blow on Arthur, who held Excalibur high in the air. Within a few traded thrusts and blows, the outmatched creature crumpled on the ground, his chest gravely wounded from the razor-sharp Excalibur.

  “Who are you?” King Arthur demanded, his sword at his throat. “What business do you have here?”

  “I’ve a-come to claim what has been stolen from me,” the man spat out viciously. “That waif there is a thief, and I’ve been tracking him for weeks to get my rightful property back.”

  All eyes turned to Savaric, who opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He hesitated and hung his head.

  “Ah,” Arthur
said. “You don’t need to say a word. Your guilt is all over you.”

  “What is your name?” he asked the man.

  “Warin,” he gasped.

  “What was stolen from you, Warin?”

  “Maps. Maps that had been in me family for generations.”

  “Savaric, return the maps to Warin,” Arthur said.

  Savaric reached into his cloak and removed the remaining map copy he had drawn from memory. He walked slowly over to where Warin lay on the ground and put it on his heaving chest. Arthur and Ygierne exchanged glances.

  “Your highness, forgive me. It’s just that I…” Savaric began.

  Arthur interrupted him. “Warin, your property is returned. I regret that we came to blows before I knew of your claim.”

  “Are you King Arthur?” Warin sputtered.

  “Yes,” Arthur replied.

  Warin grunted, disbelieving. “And I guess that will be Merlin over there then.”

  “As a matter of fact, yes,” Merlin interjected. “Arthur, before this goes any further, did you speak to the protector in the chamber in order to gain entrance?”

  “Yes, we did.”

  “What did he ask of you?”

  “He said that the chosen is a king’s son who gains his throne from a sword in a stone, and that he comes bearing the keys of the Pythagorum.”

  “This man has no claim to what is here. You are the king’s son, and anyone could have borne the Pythagorum keys.”

  Arthur rested his chin on the pommel of his sword for a thoughtful moment, then nodded. “Yes, I see.” He strode over to the horses and unbuckled his sleeping roll. He walked quickly back to the bleeding Warin and gently lifted him into a semi-upright position, with his back resting on the roll. “You at least deserve to see what your maps led to,” he said as he pulled Warin into position.

  He took the ruby and the key out of his cloak, showing them briefly to Warin before taking them to Merlin. “Savaric, bring the other key.”

  “Yes, your highness,” Savaric said, rushing to his side.

  “These are the other objects from the quest, Merlin.”

  “Ah. Yes. Beautiful,” Merlin said admiringly. He turned the ruby over in his hands, looking at it from all angles.

  Ygierne watched him handling the ruby and said, “The keys sing together, Merlin.”

  “Do they now!” he replied excitedly. “Well, let’s see what they all do together. Take the keys, Ygierne.”

  Merlin turned to where the Sator Square and the wheel nested together on the ground. He put the ruby on the ground with its smallest tip pointing up, then placed the wheel and square on top of it, adjusting it until it was even. The wheel rested perfectly on the stone. Merlin turned the wheel and stood up. With the precious base evening out its rotation, it turned easily. Merlin turned it again to get it going faster.

  “Make the keys sing, Ygierne!”

  Ygierne held the keys up in the air and struck them together. One clear sweet note, emitted from the keys, broke over them in waves as the sound slowly grew louder and louder.

  The wheel began to turn faster, and smoke poured out. The stone glowed and sparked. They backed away, putting their hands up to the glare as it got too bright to look at directly.

  Suddenly a strange wall of thick air exploded around them, knocking them off their feet. The smoke thickened and wafted out in gray clouds. There was no sound to the explosion; the only noise came from the sound of their breath whooshing out of their lungs as they landed roughly a few feet from where they had been standing.

  As they slowly got up on their feet, groaning a bit from the impact, the smoke started to clear, blown by a light breeze.

  “What happened?” Ygierne said as she looked at a scratch on her elbow.

  “Lift your head, fairy, and see what happened,” replied Merlin.

  In the area where they had been standing, a great wooden table now stood, its round surface smooth and glistening. The Sator Square lay embedded in it, surrounded by wood.

  Savaric got up from the ground and walked over to the table, dusting himself off as he went.

  “That blast… It was so peculiar … so quiet…” Savaric babbled. “But a table?”

  Suddenly a loud guffaw rang out from the ground nearby. The group turned and looked in the direction of where Warin lay on the ground, apparently unaffected by the blast. “HA!” he shouted out. “The lot of you have been running around, stealin’, diggin’ graves, gettin’ blown up, and all you get for your trouble is a table. And in the middle of nowhere, at that!” He slapped his thigh and laughed some more. “Serves the high and mighty lot of you right. A table!” He wiped tears from his face and laid back on the pack, laughing helplessly.

  Savaric’s shoulders sagged and his head dropped. He sighed deeply.

  Ygierne glowered at Warin and turned back toward the table. “Well, I guess he is right—for the most part,” she said reluctantly.

  “Ah, well, not all is as it first seems,” Merlin said, circling the table. He looked at the edges and underside, examining it from every angle. “These markings here. What are these?”

  Arthur came around to look. The edge of the table measured about four inches thick and had simple carved indentations in it, interspersed around the table, a small cup surrounded by a series of rings.

  “Curious. I wonder what those are meant to do?” said Arthur.

  Merlin paced slowly around the table, pulling at his great white beard and muttering to himself. The group stood back to give him a clear path. After a few moments, he stopped and went back to the table. “This one is different. The center cup is overlaid in gold. Arthur. Come and stand here.”

  He walked around to the opposite side of the table. “Savaric, come stand here in front of this cup.”

  Savaric’s eyes grew wide, but he obeyed.

  Merlin explained. “The way you were able to get into the cavern below the bridge was through recognition of who you were and what you bore with you. Perhaps the table will recognize that as well. Ygierne, step back behind Savaric. Now, when I count to three, I want the two of you to put both of your hands on the table. And don’t let go until I tell you to do so!”

  Arthur and Savaric looked at each other. Arthur shook his head a bit, and Savaric looked at his hands skeptically. They braced themselves, their hands held ready, and legs standing wide to withstand against whatever was to come next.

  Merlin stood behind and slightly to the right of Arthur. “Your majesty, Savaric, are you ready?”

  They both nodded.

  “One … two … three!”

  They both put their hands firmly on the table, wincing in expectation of another blast. As they looked around, the light began to change, glowing yellow, to orange, to a fiery red. Dozens of small flames floated in the air around the table, dancing around independent of each other.

  Ygierne exclaimed, “Look, the table!”

  Across the surface of the table, tiny flames spelled out words. “It’s Greek,” Merlin said calmly.

  “What does it say?” said Arthur.

  Merlin cleared his throat and translated.

  “This was the Round Table of the Pythagorum and is now the Round Table of King Arthur, true and honorable king of Britannia, by way of the sword Excalibur in the stone.

  “In days of old, followers of the Pythagoras way perished at the hands of evil kings who sought to extinguish their light. The guardians brought their treasures to this land to save them from those kings who would do evil with their power and wait for a great and worthy king.

  “The Table bestows on its chosen ones powers to secure the safety of the king’s lands and ensure that his people are strong and bold and safe in their kingdom. The power to wield the keys to the kingdoms begins with Arthur.

  “To Arthur is bestowed invincibility in the great battles to come. All power comes with a price. For the king that reigns before all the other kings of Britannia, the price is …

  Merlin hesitated.
/>
  No great monuments or monoliths will be raised to praise his rule. His reign will only be legend and fairy tales and mystery to the generations to come.

  “To the one known as Savaric and now known as Tristan, first knight of the Round Table…”

  Merlin paused and cleared his throat, waiting for the next words.

  “Invisibility at will, to allow him to serve his master, King Arthur, well. This gift has an unforeseen end. The time will come when Tristan will transform himself, and then disappear from our mortal sight forever.”

  Another long pause.

  “The table will sit in the great hall of King Arthur. All chosen knights of the Round Table will be bestowed with gifts that will serve and protect his majesty and his reign and the wellbeing of his subjects and Britannia.”

  Merlin paused again and glanced across the table at Ygierne and Tristan. In that instant, the flames began to fade from sight. They shrank ever smaller until they completely disappeared from the table and the air around them. The table’s surface looked like normal wood again, and the pungent smell of sulphur hung in the air.

  Savaric, or rather Tristan, as he was to be called, looked expectantly at Merlin. Merlin nodded his head and Savaric lifted his hands off the table. Arthur followed suit and stepped away unsteadily. Ygierne cried out and rushed to his side. She joyfully threw her arms around him. Arthur leaned into her, his head on her shoulder.

  “At last, the kingdom will be truly united,” she said through happy tears.

  “Our dream, a beginning for this land as a power to come…” he replied.

  “You are to be a great king,” she added proudly, her hands cradling his face. “My son. You do homage to your father with this … this blessing.”

  Arthur nodded, overcome and unable to speak. He looked up at the hill and the fortress lying in quiet ruins at its peak.

  “Yes, this will become a great kingdom,” Merlin said. “You are the beginning, your majesty.”