SECOND STANZA, VERSE I
My first memory was of cold alleyways and unfriendly faces. I had been abandoned at the age of three by my absentee father and my drunkard mother. The reason I exist was purely accidental, the opposite of Francis. A Breton sailor stayed with a Welsh woman for a night, leaving her the following morning. Despite never knowing him in person, I still see him in my dreams, a truly dreadful face.
My next memory was of Francis. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was the twenty-third of June, 1511. The summer sun was oppressive, the crowds dense as always. For the last six months I was in the process of a journey from Wales to Dover so I could begin a new life at sea, and perhaps find my progenitor. At last I had arrived, the Channel in sight.
Luck turned my wish to reality when I met that fateful man. He had been rotting in jail for three days when I chanced upon him. "Hey kid," he said in a rushed whisper, "Distract the guards so I can escape and I'll give you this gold coin." Bribe or no bribe, I would have done it for his face was the first I'd ever seen unmarred by the curse of cynicism.
After the deed was done, I hugged his leg, too afraid to let go. "Bring me with you!" I pleaded. Francis simply smiled.
"Don't you have parents?" I shook my head. He took me in then and there.
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Elegy for Francis, Duke of Dukes | An Alternate History
Historical FictionIn the midst of a changing world, a dying man recounts the life of his closest friend. Inspired by OPB's Basque CK3 series on YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/@OneProudBavarian). New Chapters Daily at 6:00 PM EST Word Count: 7,105
