It was a day like many others that I had seen in my life, especially one that took place in the fall. It was late October, and the sky was getting darker much earlier now, with the cooling hint of the winter season soon to come. I looked around the room where I stood. From my vantage point behind the bar, I could see the door when it opened and make note of those who entered. It was a typical “English Pub” that had been around for more years than the current people alive in the small village could recall. Not a ‘historical landmark’, but if anyone bothered to try, getting the building registered would be easy enough to do.

I had worked here for more years than I cared to recall. My wife and I loved the place. We never had children, so we took care of those who came to spend some time (and a few coins) in our beloved ‘home away from home’.

Lighting was subdued, but you could easily see the heavy beams that supported the ceiling and the floor above. Whitewashed stone walls held many paintings and pictures of people from times past. A few faces remembered, most faded into the obscurity of long gone memories of many years ago.

The door opened and a breeze came in, along with three lads in their early twenties. Most likely from the university, since they looked to be typical students, dressed as they were. They shut the door and made their way to the bar.

“What will it be, Lads?” I asked as they settled into their respective stools. I suppose that looking to be almost five decades older than they are, they do qualify as ‘Lads’ to me. “I don’t think I have seen you here before.”

“Do you have any (some strange name that no beer has any business being called)?” the first one asked.

Yanks. I should have figured. They get these crazy designer beer names like “Purple Penguin” or “Maraschino Tennis Ball” or God knows what.

Archibald, our old tomcat who seemed to sleep more than stay awake, looked up from his basket that my darling had placed at the end of the bar opened an eye and looked out at the new faces. As they were of no interest, he went back to sleep, dreaming of whatever it is that cats dream of.

“Sorry Lads, we don’t have too much of a variety here. How about the first round is on me. Local special. Tell me what you think.” I pulled three pints and set the glasses down before them, and smiled.

They took a sip, and to their delight, stated that it was quite enjoyable, if a little warm. (That is how we drink it here. If you prefer it otherwise, we can find some ice if it is a deal breaker for you.)

Conversation came to the point that I was told that they were taking a semester at the local university to research European and Medieval History, with a side interest in the legends and folklore of various places. And yes, all three were Yanks.

“Sir?” one of them asked, “I think that we can agree that the man who stands in your place at any business like this has a good idea of who is who in the community, and also knows a bit of the local history as well” (I nodded.) “How long have you lived here?”

“All my life. Traveled a bit for a year or so when I was about your age, but came home, married and here I am since. Why?”

They looked at each other and one pulled out a small notebook and some pens. “Well, as we mentioned, we are gathering information on local history for a thesis and we also hope to compile assorted stories of interest. So much of humanity is no longer interested in what happened in the past and we want to try and preserve some of it before it is lost.”

Well now! My opinion of these fellows increased rather dramatically. History was indeed a topic that was something of a passion. “And you hope that I might have a story to share?” They nodded. “Hmmm,” I chuckled. “This might indeed be your lucky day, for I can share with you a story that has been all but lost to the mists of time gone by. And, it happened right in this very village!”

The eager looks upon their faces was heartwarming, as I continued.

“Well Lads, I’m sure that you have heard many a tale of Arthur and the glory of Camelot along with the sad downfall of that wondrous time. Knights of the Round Table, going off on Quests, or fighting hostile armies, and even the supposed random dragon. Good times, Lads. Good times. And not all of those ‘damsels in distress’ were ever in much distress, if you catch my meaning.

But let me share with you a story that is not so well known. From a time before Arthur became the man of legend, the mighty warrior and king.

You need to know that before England was united under one rule, the land was actually no more than a number of small fiefdoms, ruled by chieftains, warlords and minor nobles who were constantly skirmishing with each other to try to gain an advantage and maybe just a little more power. Among them, was our man, Arthur. Now pay no attention to that silly story about a sword being yanked from a stone. Never happened. No, Arthur was slowly gaining his power through battle and winning. His men were skilled warriors and all shared the same dream that if the country could be finally united under one ruler, the country and her people would flourish. Arthur was the man to lead them to that dream. Through great skill, planing, and honestly, luck, Arthur was slowly gaining momentum in unifying the country.

However, there are times when skill and planning are not enough, and luck will turn against you. In the heat of one particular battle, an arrow pierced the throat of Arthur’s horse, and the beast fell. Arthur was able to jump off its back so as not to be trapped under it, but alas, he was captured.

Obviously, Arthur was not slain, as we have stories of his exploits later in his life. As was often the case, when a leader was captured, Arthur was brought before the other chieftain. Often, the captured one could be released for a heavy ransom or swear fealty, to avoid death. The chieftain, Manfred, knew that Arthur was too proud to swear fealty, and also not wealthy enough to place a reasonable ransom for his life. And yet, Manfred was highly impressed with Arthur, and understood his hopes and plans to one day unite the country. He tried to think of an alternative that would spare Arthur from death, and also save face.

“Arthur,” Manfred stated, “You place me in a quandary. What shall I do with you?” Arthur silently faced Manfred, standing tall, shoulders wide, and a defiant look upon his face. “You are renowned for your fighting and planning skills. It was indeed just a quirk of fate that we managed to capture you. And I admire that you ordered your men to stand back at that time so that nobody else was wounded or killed.”

Arthur remained silent.

“And I am well aware that you are very wise, and if you discover a question that you have no answer to, you will search after that answer with the single minded passion of a hound after a hare.” Manfred paused a moment. “That being said, I have a quest for you. Should you reach the goal of that quest, within one year, I will release you of any obligations. Should you fail, I would expect, upon your honor, that you return to me without your army and be slain. Will you accept this quest?”

Arthur, his men and the rest of the people gathered were stunned at this news. “And what is that quest?” Arthur asked.

Manfred sighed. “My wife, for lack of a better description, is a shrew. While she is indeed beautiful to gaze upon, her manner of being is spite filled and has all the sweetness of the air in a privy.” There were a few hidden smiles and chuckles by those in attendance, who had met Manfred’s wife, and to the one, they agreed that he was being kind in his statement. “I have tried to give her gifts of precious stones and metals. Fine clothes that would enhance her looks. Servants to attend her. And yet, I still have made no headway in pleasing her. She is a mystery to me.”

Not understanding just what was expected of him, Arthur could only ask; “And how does that apply to my quest?”

“Simply put,” Manfred stated, “I want you to go and discover the answer to the question; ‘What is it that women want?’”

Stunned silence filled the gathering and Arthur cried out; “Kill me now, for there is no man in this, or any other country who can answer that question!”

Yes, Lads, Arthur had been challenged a quest to discover what went on inside the mind of one of the most complicated creatures that God Himself put upon this planet. To his thinking, his fate had been sealed and his death just a short year away.

Manfred chuckled. “Perhaps, or perhaps not. I leave it in your capable hands to discover the answer, if there is one to be had.” With a ‘shooing motion’, he had his guards escort Arthur across the field to where his men waited. They stayed the night, and come the morning, broke camp to return towards their homes.

I know what you are thinking, Lads. This was an impossible task. And that Manfred was a cruel man, having a bit of sport with Arthur. Actually, that was not the case, because Manfred actually DID want an answer, because his very best advisers, of which he had also tasked with discovering the answer to the question, had tried and failed more times than could be counted.

As Arthur led his troops back to his home village, he pondered the question; “What do women want?” It seemed like there couldn’t BE an answer! Why? Each woman that he had ever known during his life had been different in many ways. Yes, there would always be things that were similar, but to his mind, there would always be more that was not. How could he POSSIBLY discover the answer to this question? Arthur knew that if he was to have any hope of finding out, and in the process save his own life, he needed to start researching quickly.

Arthur allowed his men one day of down time, when they had returned to their home village. This would allow them to spend time with family and rest. He summoned them to his small fort the following day.

“Men,” he stated, “I think we all know this to be an impossible quest. But I am asking that all of you join me in rising to this challenge, because if we do indeed learn the answer to the question of ‘What do women want?’, this could have far reaching results for every man on earth.” He was greeted with nods of agreement. “I am thinking we start in the manner of a stone in a pond. We begin here in our village and then, like the ripples of water from the stone, we spread out. I’m asking that each of you go home and ask the women in your family the question. Ask your wives, your mothers, your sisters, and if need be, your daughters. If we can’t find a reasonable answer, we shall travel to other places and see if we can find the answer. As challenging as this seems, I believe that there is a very small possibility that one of us might stumble upon the answer. Meet me here tomorrow after mid day so that we can talk more, and I thank all of you for helping me.”

The following day, Arthur and his men met once more. It should come as no surprise that to the one, they were unsuccessful in finding an obvious correct answer. The answers they diid get ranged from; “A nice home” or “A happy family” or “A strong and handsome husband”, along with several others. Obviously, they were making no headway.

Thus, it was decided that Arthur sent his men off to travel in various directions, stopping at any village or homestead where there were women. The men would travel in pairs, Should an answer be discovered, one man would ride quickly back to where Arthur waited with the answer. If no answer was to be found, everyone would return home within six months to try to determine what would next happen.

As the next few months passed, word would come back occasionally to Arthur of the progress, (or, lack of) being made to discover an answer. “What do women want?” Such a simple question, and yet, so maddeningly complex in the answer. And there were times that Arthur thought that there simply WAS no answer, and that he should start to make ready for his death.

As the calendar reached the six month point, Arthur’s men started to return home. Each had failed in discovering the answer to the question, and feared for the life of their commander.

One day, a stranger wandered into the area. An older fellow, looking careworn from many years of travel on the road. He said that he had heard of Arthur’s situation and wanted to see if perhaps he could help. The stranger was brought to see Arthur. His name, was Merlin.

Well Lads, I know that when you hear the name ‘Merlin’, you think of some bloke wearing a long robe, with a large floppy hat, very much like that “Gandalf” fellow in your Hobbit Stories. Not so. The man was just like any other, except for being older, and a bit thread-bear for wandering so long. In fact, the only possible thing that this Merlin and the one of legend might have in common was that he had a long walking staff.

“Please tell me that you have an answer,” Arthur begged. “This whole situation is very maddening to me and my men!”

Merlin chuckled. “Oh, no. Sadly I do not have the answer. However,” and here he paused for a moment, “I believe that I do know of a way that you can get the answer you so desperately search for.” Merlin looked Arthur in the eye and continued. “My Lord, while some might say that I am a wise man, knowing things of the world as I do, it is safe to say that I do not pretend to know the workings of a woman’s mind. And I want you to remember this; It was YOU who was tasked with this challenge. Yes, asking your men to assist was indeed understandable, for there was a possibility that with many searching for the answer, it would be found quickly. Alas, that has not happened.

“Arthur, for you to learn the answer to a question that has confounded men since time started, it is YOU who must go searching. And honestly, while every woman within the area has been asked and given her answer, I believe that the situation calls for, Magic.”

At the mention of the word ‘magic’, there was a gasp from those gathered.