I give to you a story in double eleventy-one words…
The ground trembled.
‘An earthquake?’ asked one of the king’s advisors.
‘I think not,’ the king responded. ‘They are coming.’
‘How did they defeat your guard?’
‘My adversary wields Skofnung.’
‘Surely not.’
‘It is the only explanation.’ He glanced at his wary men. ‘Let it not dampen our spirits.’
‘But, how do we defend this keep my lord?’
The king responded, ‘We will find a way. Or we will die.’
The king’s old tutor, a senile waif of gaunt appearance, called meekly from the corner. ‘Sire?’
The advisors turned and considered the decrepit man. He stood, leaning on his staff.
‘Yes, Olev?’ inquired the king.
‘Your daughter must ride to battle.’
Silence engulfed the cavernous room. Each man stared at the ancient tutor.
A sound like thunder suddenly rumbled outside the keep. ‘They come closer,’ Olev said.
‘You dare endanger our princess?’ growled a young man who had recently joined the king’s council.
‘Do not tarry with fate, boy.’
‘Olev,’ responded the king. ‘You speak of my daughter.’
‘Yes, king, I do.’ He paused. ‘And of the legend.’
‘It is a child’s tale, Olev.’
‘Sire, the sword cannot be drawn in the presence of women.’
Fritha listened from a secret passage behind the throne. ‘I must ride for my people,’ she whispered.
2 comments:
Wow! I like it a lot! I saw each character in my head, perfectly. Reminds me of some of my fav fantasy books.
Great fairy tale.
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