Keira McCloud would be Queen. She had been saying it since she had learned to talk. The boys near her small farm had laughed and teased her relentlessly ever since. "You can't be Queen, only King's rule, everyone knows that, ye silly lass!" they would taunt. Keira didn't care a whit. They could say what they liked; she would prove them all wrong. A Queen would rule the land one day; it was only a matter of time! Why shouldn't she be the first?
The sword in the stone had been in the town square since the eldest, toothless, old villager had been a mere babe. Countless challengers had tried to heave it from its solid, granite sheath; everyone from the biggest, strongest knight, to the lowliest, filthy stable boy. But no girl had ever tried it, ever. It just wasn't done.
Keira McCloud strode into the center of the town square, ignoring the rude stares of the simple townsfolk, as she strode purposefully to the famous sword. Climbing onto the stone quickly, people gasped and spit when they saw what she was doing. The slip of a girl reached her small hands and placed them around the cold, metal hilt of the huge sword, gripping it tightly. Clenching her teeth together, she took a deep breath, pulling with all of her might and . . .it moved!