Well, you asked for more. So he's given you more. ShaneAlpha's second bite of the cherry. And he has one more in the slipway.
The itinerant holy man sat hunched over in the small house, his face hidden in the darkness of his still raised cowl as the rain splattered on the mud outside. The noise was far louder than it would have been in normal circumstances due to the large hole in the wall caused by the cooling body, its back against a nearby boulder and its head slumped to its chest.
The man slowly rolled several smooth stones in one hand meditatively. His hand clutched suddenly and thrust the stones into a pouch worn on his waist as a soft cough and groan sounded from near the warm fireplace. He quickly rose and walked over to the small form laying under a woollen blanket. Another quiet groan rose from the blanket. “Easy, my son.” The man said in the local tongue. “You’re safe now but have been asleep for a day.” Bright blue eyes suddenly opened convulsively. The man spoke softly, “You must be thirsty, have some small sips of this until you can talk.” As he pressed a small cured leather drinking pouch to the mouth of the small boy attempting to rise from under the blanket. The boy did as he was told, slowly sipping the honey Mead, the colour returning to his face as the liquid flowed to his belly.
Eventually the boy stopped drinking. He suddenly looked wildly around the room, his eyes widening as he spotted the rent in the wall. He face looked pleadingly into the face of the man, tears starting to form in his eyes and roll down his cheeks. The man, voice still low and soft gently spoke “Yes, they’re dead. I buried them and consecrated the ground. They are with God now.”
The boy started sobbing, buried his head into the chest of the man and tried to speak, his words coming explosively through his heaving sobs. “I..I…I.. was.. bringing.. the.. sheep.. in…Mother screamed… I..I.. ran.. to help..the..the..deamon..was..was..eating Papa! It..it..killed Mama…it laughed…I..I..got ..father’s sword. It laughed louder! I ran at it with the sword. I..I.. don’t remember any more.
“Can you stand?” the man asked. The boy nodded and rose to his feet. The man guided him outside until they were both standing over the body of the Scolari Grymm. The man looked down at the boy “You have killed a demon and been touched by God, my son. I wanted to bury this spawn of Satan but could not remove the sword. Can you try?” The boy nodded and reaching out his small hand grasped the grip of the blade. He smoothly pulled the blade free of the body and the boulder it was pinned to and effortlessly raised it toward the sky. Myrddin looked in awe as the boy spoke in a newly strong voice “I am Arthur and I name this, my father’s sword, Excalibur!”