Meanwhile, back at Camelot

Two lines queued to the Grand Living Room, all the way around the castle and across the moat.

It was the annual, Old Stuff Road Show.  The traveling experts on old stuff came across the Channel to Camelot once a year.  Everybody in the area was excited to bring their stuff and have the experts tell the world how important they were to have such magnificent stuff.  Even Earls and Dukes from across the realm brought their stuff. Of course the elite had their own elite line and due to their clothing, the judges knew when tact was the best approach to the particular piece of stuff they were going to examine.

Sketch artists were employed to properly catalog the individual pieces of import that were found during the travels of the troop.  And scriveners properly docketed the pieces in the Book of Ages.

The merchants who were just peasants good at selling old carts brought some of the most interesting pieces of stuff. That was because merchants traveled and their contacts traveled and they were always interested in deals. As a matter of fact the Old Stuff Road Show used to be known as 'Lets Make a Deal" before the FCC stepped in and put the kibosh on it.

The first real piece-more than fifty percent of all stuff was 'screened'-was a beautiful robe.  It was six feet in length and four feet across and it was made of the finest Asian Silk.  Now Asia was a place that nobody had been to but there were always fine garments that were described as 'Asian' so everybody figured it had to be there.  To the East that is and really Far East.Sir Edgar, the expert and leader of the road show, stepped forward to examine the cloth.

This is a fine example of Asian 'kitsmusi', that is a cloth that is actually weaved from the spittle of tiny worm-like creatures. But the floral designs were added somewhere in France where artistes are always attempting to make things better but actually make them worthless.  If there were no designs at the bottom of this piece, it would be worth four ounces of gold.  But as it is, if you would like I can give you half an ounce and we will call it even.

You are a liar, and a thief and I have had enough of this, the merchant said as he marched out.  And your mother is ugly and your feet stink, he added over his shoulder as he exited.

Lady Douche's lamp was the next article to be highlighted. She always had this smile that looked as if it were painted on. And in fact it was. She was a widow over the last twenty years.  And no wonder, who, after all would have volunteered to be the Duke of Douche, but that is another story.

Sir Edgar approached and handled the exquisite piece with the most delicate of hands.  This is a wonderful example of Classical Greek Lamps.  I would say it was created sometime after Socrates died of acid reflux disease and sometime before Sophists figured out they could charge people to lie for them at jury trials.  The wick would come out of this spout and you would fill the lamp with oil where this cork is seen.  It is absolutely in perfect condition.

And I would have this insured, dear Duchess, for at least two ounces of gold.  Lady Douche's face never changed as Sir Edgar made the pronouncement.  Why thank you, she said, I never would have dreamed.

Yeah never would have dreamed you scum bag, I paid four ounces of gold for the object from one of those traveling merchants.  He was not even Jewish.  Goddamn, she thought.

The next piece was brought to the fore by Lady Summit, wife of Sir Gawain. It was a folio and Sir Edgar carefully unfolded it onto the long table.  It was an autographed picture of Uther Pendragon as he held up his son Arthur, a few days after birth. The folio had been a gift from Arthur to Sir Gawain upon completing the hundred yard dash during the decathlon a few years before.  

This picture speaks for itself, Sir Edgar mused.  What a catch!!!!  Why this is so great no amount of gold could compensate one for the loss of this!!!

This comment made everyone feel good and the crowd cheered.

The next article was carried in by a cartwright, actually the cartwright and his four sons.  Because of the articles size all five men were needed; or at least four men with papa cartwright directing.

It was a large horse, made of a fine cedar.  It was splendid in design.

Sir Edgar approached the sculpture with awe and devotion.  And who are you fine gentlemen and from whence did you come?

I am Ben the cartwright and these are my sons, Big Hoss, Ben Jr., Thomas and Little Joe.  We come from north of here in a little burgh known as Montana.  

Where did you find this terrific sculpture?  

We discovered it in a great mound located on our farm.  

Well we had our experts take a careful look at this beautiful artistic representation of the Trojan Horse.  It is approximately six hundred years old and was created by an artist by the name Celsius.

How do you know that? Ben asked.

Because it says Celsius on the foreleg.

Oh, said Ben looking down the right front leg of the sculpture.

But how do you know its age?

Well, Merlin and I got out our star charts and noted that the piece had to have been created when the sign of the Horse was high in the night sky and that dates it to approximately six hundred years ago.

The crowd all sighed and nodded their heads.

Because of its age and its fine craftsmanship, I would advise that you insure it for fifteen ounces of gold.

The cartwrights gasped and Ben fell to his knees. After he gathered himself, Sir Edgar asked whether they were going to sell the piece at auction.

Oh yes.

Well what will you do with the money?

Oh, we are going to go to market and buy some women, it is very lonely where we come from and Little Joe has been spending much too much time with the stable boy.

With that the crowd broke out into laughter.

The next piece to come before the crowd was the original crown of thorns brought from the Holy Land.  It had been gold gilded and was encased in a glass bottle.

The piece was proffered by a peasant boy, and normally peasant boys are ignored except during Fat Tuesdays, but that is another story.  Sir Edgar took the piece from the boy and looked at it long and hard. He looked at it upside down, he looked at it all around.  He looked at it from the left and he looked at it from the right. He then called in the Line Judge.

What doest thou thinkest of this trinket Sir Max?  Sir Max took a deep drink of the thing.

Where did thou get this boy?  Asked the Line Judge.

My great grandfather Morris brought it back from the seas when he traveled the world as a seaman. He told me he had acquired it from the Middle East.

Did he tell you how they got it into the bottle?

I know not.

I am now sure that this is a piece of magic and that Our Lord and Savior is here with us, exclaimed Sir Max.

At that moment, the crowd opened up and the child ascended to the ceiling and the Child called:

Bless each and every one of you. For you hath seen the Lord.

Everyone fell to their knees and prayed to the glory they had just witnessed.

And with that the Child disappeared. And there was wonder in the castle that day.

                              
After a half hour for lunch the search for old stuff continued.

A young knight appeared in the line with a stick.  What pray tell do you have there young knight? Sir Edgar inquired.

This was the stick brought to our shores by Sir Joseph of Aramethia some four centuries ago.

What provenance do you have that accompanies such a claim, asked Sir Edgar.

Sir Edgar, I have Sir Joseph's initials right here, showing him the initials.

Ah, anyone could have put the initials there.  That proves nothing.

Ah but can any stick do this?  Whereby the knight stuck the stick into the marble floor and a great green bush grew from the spot at once.

These are truly magical times, said Sir Edgar.

The wonders were many in those days, but now we must get back to Sagamor.

Lancelot escaped the monastery with the infant and proceeded east.  He knew not why, it just felt right.  Since he was facing north at the time, it felt even more right.

He had stopped to prepare a type of papoose to hold the infant and he straddled it to the back of his saddle.  The child was most cooperative.  He hardly ever cried and he was most amenable to sustenance when given.  That was how he knew it was peasant by blood.

After a while he came to a village.  He noted that he had gold coins in his leggings and sought a room for the night and some sustenance.. As he approached the inn he encountered a group of female peasants doing laundry at a river located right at the edge of the town.

All of the peasants approached Sagamore with oohs and aahs.  Not for the baby. For they all had at least a dozen of them. No it was the papoose. They had never seen anything like that before. The queen of the peasants, Elaine approached.

Dear Knight, what is your name and from whence have you come?

I am Sagamor and I come from the West and that is all I know.

May I see your child?

Elaine approached the tot and gleed much over his countenance.  He is a fine speciman of peasantry with a fine smile and a sturdy disposition.  Is he your child then, Sir Sagamor?

There was sarcasm in her sweet voice, because Sagamor was dressed in the clothes of a monastery. They all knew that he, Sagamor was not of Royal Blood.

Sagamor, taken aback, responded that he had no children and that this child was picked from the fruit of a special tree in the forest.  And that he, Sagamor, knew it was his quest in life to make sure that the child fared well.

Come with me, Elaine pleaded and Sagamor followed her, to what he predicted was his end.

That is how Sagamor always felt of the female of the species but he knew not why.

Elaine took the knight to her hut and the child was tended to and then the couple performed the naughty.

Much refreshed, and happily satisfied, the knight awoke to the beautiful Elaine.  Shall we perform the naughty again fair maiden? 

You bet. The fair maiden responded.  All this without the benefit of Viagra but then again, golf had not been invented.

Elaine was more than happy to take on the infant with the empty promises of Sagamor. And with that Sagamor went errant some more.

As Sagamor left, Elaine turned to the infant and proclaimed:

    We shall call you Galahad.  Because Galahad is all I yelled ere I met your father!!!!

Sagamor proceeded to the West and traveled many days. He felt so light hearted and yet he wondered who he truly was.  Why would he take the time to carry children across the wilds and yet dump them on some poor peasant girl who was really good at oral sex?