Uprising In Gonjolard (Part 6) | Freewrite: 3/22/24 | Prompt: A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

PART 5:
After fourteen days hidden in Peasant Raul's cellar, Vicar Tibost manages to escape and meet the SOB where plans to finalize the rebellion took place.

Owin, the leader of the Sons of Bodar conducts the meeting with precision and haste. At the height of the meeting, to the surprise, suddenly a female, Lauryn of The Long Sword, who desires to join the SOB, enters the cottage where the meeting is taking place, much to the chagrin of the all-men group.

The tall and beautiful Lauryn possesses fierce fighting skills and battle knowledge to match her wicked tongue. Her compelling insight of army tactics she gained from her brothers. Her knowledge of the inner workings of the Crown and its inhabitants in Gonjolard obtained from first-hand knowledge, gains acceptance, especially with Vicar Tibost.

Plans are set for her to meet Alphonse at the castle.

Only she knows the connection she and Alphonse has. Not even her brother, Simon, who has been tasked with escorting Alphonse to the castle to answer for his supposedly rebellious leadership, is aware.

Will Lauryn reach Alphonse in time to hopefully save him and deliver to him the SOB's rebellion plans?

And will Alphonse accept the SOB's plans to use him as a decoy; a diversion for the group's attack on the day of the Annual Town Festival?

All hinges on King Hartfelt and Prince Gawdawfel's belief in the plans presented to them.

Now, Part 6

Thor's day. The journey to Gonjolard that morning was long and arduous. Lauryn's deliberate stride matched her staunch determination. She and Peasant Josiah rode hard through the dense forest on the other side of the villages, then turned west toward the town. She dismounted, then tethered her horse to a nearby tree on the edge of the brush behind the open sands that lead to the castle.

As she walked toward the castle, her long sword, as light as a feather in her strong and practiced hands, cast a shadow across the shifting sands. The sword ached for the revenge she long sought that resided inside the palace walls.

Overhead, her trusted falcon glided. Nearby, his companions' watchful eyes gauged the enemy. No surprise attacks from either side would occur that day. Every step left its deep impression of her approach as she remembered the embedded scars Prince Gawdawfel left on her soul.

In the distance, the town of Gonjolard teemed with excitement as townspeople gathered for their annual event. A weekend of gaiety and celebration.

^{Source: stable diffusion image designed by me in StarryAI}

The Annual Gonjolard Town Fair held special meaning for peasants, especially the prosperous farmers, named Bodars, who owned twenty acres or more of land. Actually a festival, these peasants were delighted to mingle and catch a glimpse of the elegant castle grounds.

In previous years, bartering their goods from crops to handmade crafts, especially carvings was prosperous as wealthy lords sought quality items. It was well known that peasants possessed a unique talent for working with their hands. Fine porcelain and other rare gifts could be acquired for a small sum without having to wait for the ships from abroad.

The Crown controlled the event with King Hartfelt and his son, Prince Gawdawfel, presided over every aspect to ensure appropriate taxes were levied.

The Festival would officially begin the next day on Freya's day.

On the afternoon before when Lauryn arrived, the stench of death hovered. Surely, the Crown could delay executions until after the Festival ended in two days. But the villagers knew the motive. A message to all in the kingdom not to be swayed by those who would disrupt the festivities with talk and actions deemed in opposition to the Crown.

Lauryn knew all too well how the Crown kept a peaceful existence among the people.

It was no surprise as she witnessed several villagers plead mercy for their loved ones. Mothers cried on their knees. Children screamed for this fathers as they held on to their mothers' frocks.

Angry chants of protest from the crowd gathered outside the palace grew louder as Lauryn approached. Josiah followed close behind. She pulled back her cape to expose her radiant face. No one noticed as she weaved through the incensed crowd taunting the prisoner they believed to be an enemy of the peasants.

There stood Alphonse. His back razor stiff upon the platform with his head held high. Blood trickled down one side of his face.

Lauryn glanced at her brother, Simon, standing next to him. She heaved a huge sigh of relief that Alphonse survived debtor's prison. That Alphonse was kept safe and was now brought to face the Crown spoke of her faith in her older brother.

She knew the rough treatment was necessary. She winced as Simon yanked Alphonse's hair back and kicked his shins. The act knocked Alphonse to his knees.

Lauryn didn't expect Alphonse to react. That was his strength.

But their eyes locked for a long moment. Neither one knew the other's heart raced as each pair of emerald eyes bore through time and grasp that hour of blissful oneness achieved that evening in the field under the setting sun.

In her heart, Alphonse was her lover; her hero; her king.

Josiah tugged at her arm, interrupting her thoughts. She broke eye contact with Alphonse long enough to hear the whisper Josiah meant only for her.

She scoured the incensed crowd. Shouts from peaceful villagers weren't lost on her as a group of peasants huddled together shouted calls for freedom for Alphonse. She sensed they weren't only protesting his treatment, but their own family members as well under the Crown's loyalty system of justice.

Immediately, amidst the chaos, the prisoners, including Alphonse, were shackled marched down the scaffold, then placed in the prison wagon headed toward the castle. All in attendance knew their fate as the dungeons awaited.

The public display was merely a warning of the consequences as one guard gleefully swung the rope and lowered the blade down slowly on the guillotine, then jumped from the platform and disappeared into the crowd.

Stunned, the subdued crowd spoke in hushed voices. Some stood in awe at the display of unfettered power in the hands of their corrupt king and his son. Others dispersed to ponder the fate of their loves ones. Anxiousness settled within their hearts.

The Festival the peasants and townspeople planned and anticipated for months now overshadowed by thoughts of torture in the dungeons deep beneath the beautiful castle facade.

Her shoulders heaved as she clinched her fists, knowing the mistreatment Alphonse could face in the dungeon. She'd witnessed this from her time spent in the castle. Sights and sounds that will haunt her forever.

Lauryn hesitated, but couldn't constrain her eyes from traveling upward, tracing the outline of the castle wall to the third floor window. There was no way he would miss his handiwork. Of that, she was certain.

Prince Gawdawfel watched from his balcony, partially hidden. A wide, wicked smile formed, thinking that a peaceful gathering was now assured.

[to be continued.]

Welcome back to my freewrite prompt story for this week. The photo that is the subject of the story spoke to me about a female who is headed toward a destination.

Describe what you see.
Clouds roll in under a grim sky. Crows overhead are flying close to a female as though protecting her since she is traveling alone. The woman is dressed in her garments with a robe. In her hand is her long sword. Her boots protect her feet from the hot sand as her shadow follows. In the background is a tall castle. It appears as though castle guards surround it. She appears to be headed toward it. The mountains rest behind the castle.

Describe what you feel.
I feel that the woman is on a mission. She is headed toward the castle, so her face is hidden from me. I can't see the expression whether she is worried or happy. I feel she is worried or angry by the position of her long sword. It's out and ready for use should it be called upon to defend her.

Write a story or poem about what you think is going on. I leave with you my story for: A Picture is Worth A Thousand Words - 3/22/24.

^{Image used with permission of contest owner}