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Script by Gill Clarke
Illustrations by JAI Gendall

From the ancient city of Tregalan on the slopes of Mount Snowdon Arthur Pendragon, King of the Britons, and his Knights of the Round Table rode out to battle.

The King's opponent was his treacherous son, Sir Mordred, who had usurped the throne and forced himself apon his own step-mother, Queen Gwenhwyfar.

The men of both armies were well matched in courage and stature, but when the sun set on the day of battle many fine swordsmen lay trampled on the rocky mountainside.

With a cry of "Traitor!" King Arthur wielded the sword Excalibur above Sir Mordred's head and cleaved him with one fell stroke. As the young man crumpled to the ground enemy arrows thudded into Arthur from every direction. For ever more the mountain pass became known as Bwlch y Saethau, meaning the Pass of the Arrows.

In the arms of loyal knights the dying King was carried down to Llyn Llydaw at the foot of Snowdon, where Arthur requested good Sir Bedevere to take Excalibur and throw it into the middle of the lake.

Twice Sir Bedevere tried, and twice he failed, for love of the richly decorated hilt and the strong iron blade. Once more the King begged his knight to obey him. This time Sir Bedevere was ashamed and he threw the sword far from the shore.

Before its point could pierce the surface a hand and arm draped in white silk arose from out of the water and caught the weapon. Thrice on high the Lady of the Lake brandished Excalibur, then she accepted back into Llydaw her former gift to the King.

Towards the watchers, out of the night, came a barge, powered by no crew that man could see and bearing three fair queens robed all in black. King Arthur was laid in the velvet of their laps, and then the strange craft sailed away into the darkness.

In silence the King's followers climbed up the steep cliffs of Lliwedd and disappeared, one by one, inside a dark crevice in the rockface.

Fifteen hundred years later the knights are still waiting. Fully armed, the warriors sleep in chainmail, their arms resting on leather shields. Behind them the cavern walls glint with veins of precious minerals.

At the entrance of the cave hangs a golden bell, ready to waken the sleepers. For in their country's greatest crisis their leader will return, and then King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table will ride to battle again.

* THE END *