The King Arthur Problem

I was woken at 6.30 a.m. by a hammering on my back door.
I dressed quickly and shouted for Alun to come in.
“I’ve found a body, Jed,” Alun shouted excitedly as I was coming down the stairs.

“A body?” I replied. It sounded unlikely. “Are you sure?”

“Yes Jed. I was digging a carp pond in my back garden and came across the bones.”

“A carp pond? What do you want a carp pond for?”

“For my carp Jed.”

“But you don’t have any carp.”

“That’s why I want a carp pond.”

“What, you want a carp pond because you don’t have any carp?”

“You’re missing the point Jed. I’ve found a dead body. The remains of a fellow human being.”

I finished getting dressed and followed Alun across the island to his back garden, where the dead body was buried.

“There Jed, that’s where it’s all happening.”

He pointed to a freshly-dug hole in the ground.

“Well I suppose you have to keep your non-existent carp somewhere.”

“Will you shut up about the carp Jed. Look, there, the bones. A human femur and pelvis. These are the bones of an adult male, identify unknown. A dead body Jed, heaven knows how it got here, it could be murder. This could become some great murder mystery story.”

“I very much doubt it,” I said, “the bones are ancient, there’s not the slightest trace of flesh on them. Besides, we’re the only people on the island, it can hardly be a murder, we’re both accounted for.”

“You’re right Jed. Murder would be folly on a two-man island, not even the most stupid detective could fail to work out the murderer when there’s only one suspect. Midsummer Murders would seem interesting by comparison.”

“We should inform the mainland council,” I said, “they’ll know what to do.”

“Bloody mainland council. They’ll probably introduce a tax on buried old bones, taxing’s the only thing they ever seem to be any good at.”

Despite his reservations Alun informed the council who sent over an expert bone-identifying person from the mainland the very next day.

“A bone expert,” I said, “fancy, a man who does nothing with his life but stare at bones.” Living on an island with a population of two people means that Alun and I share in all the tasks of running a country from deciding on the island’s rules and regulations to clearing out blocked drains. “We’re both kings and skivvies Jed,” as Alun once said.

It constantly amazes me how specialised workers can be on the mainland. I once met a man whose sole job was to test beds for a mattress manufacturer. “What a wonderful job,” I said, “it must be great to get paid for sleeping.” “Na, it’s rubbish,” the mainlander had responded, “I can never get to sleep at night. The missus complains something rotten as I’m never tired.”

The bone expert took no time at all to confirm that the bones were old. “Very old indeed. It’s interesting.”

“Interesting?” I said, surprised. What’s interesting about old bones?

“Well, there are historical records about King Arthur’s body being buried in an island just off the mainland coast. The burial site fits the description perfectly.”

“What, you mean king Arthur was buried in a vegetable patch?”

The bone-man’s enthusiasm could not be dented, however, and within a few days there were literally dozens of archaeologists on the islands digging up bones. “You’re going to have the biggest carp pond on the archipelago,” I said to Alun.

Despite my cynicism the evidence that the bones were kingly in origin grew. Various pieces of jewellery were found near the body, including a crown. Alun had recruited an army of volunteers to help him go through the island’s historic documents and a series of letters were found from an islander called Jede to a certain Lancelot, in which Jede states that ‘this would be a good, out of the way spot to bury the body.’

DNA samples were taken from the bones to check against the DNA of kings and queens around the world believed to have descended from the Arthurian line. Alun and I also had DNA swabs taken, just to rule out the possibility that the bones were those of an islander.

With evidence mounting that the bones did indeed belong to the great mainland king, a press conference was announced at which ‘great revelations’ were promised. A film crew and various journalists arrived from the mainland, so many in fact that the empty house had to be turned into a temporary pub to accommodate their refreshment needs.

After a long, drink-heavy lunch, the journalists staggered to Alun’s vegetable patch, where the bone-man was waiting to make his announcement.

“Extensive study of the historical records have confirmed that the bones do indeed belong to the legendary king Arthur,” he announced. “This is backed up by DNA evidence showing a clear lineage between the body we found and a number of royal lines across Europe.

“However, this is not the main finding of our research,” the bone-man continued. “We are delighted to announce that we have traced a living heir to king Arthur. We believe that we have identified the true monarch of the mainland.”

There were gasps of astonishment from the crowd of journalists, delighted that their somewhat dull sounding assignment about old bones was suddenly about to become front page news. Photographers scanned the horizon for scantily-clad newly-anointed queens caught unawares by the announcement.

“I am delighted to announce that the heir of King Arthur and, according to our historical analysis the true king, lives on this island.” Oh god I thought, not Alun, I don’t want Alun to be my king. But I needn’t have worried.

“The DNA of islander Mr Wood is identical to thatof King Arthur and I shall be making a presentation to parliament later this week, calling for the present monarchy to be replaced by the true king.”

Which is why, dear reader, I find myself about to make my first ever visit to the mainland, where I will be crowned king and inherit much in the way of wealth and palaces.

There is a frantic banging on my back door. “It’s the boatman, Jed,” Alun says, “he’s ready to take you to your coronation.”

As I climb onto the boat I turn and look at the island that has been my home for my entire life. Ahead of me await palaces, princesses, hundreds of servants and millions of loyal subjects. Stories unimaginable await me, as I climb aboard the boat and sail off, towards my destiny.