A.N - I have yet another piece to add to my collection of unread rubbish. This is not really a story per say; it does not tell much of a tale but rather sets a scene for seven hundred words. However, I began it in July of this year while very much sleep deprived and reading William Shakespeare so it can be said that I need to get out more. Nevertheless I had loads of fun writing it and it has probably been my favourite writing experience because it explores a very different side of my writing style. I hope some people read it and like it, and keep in mind; if you do enjoy this *story* or me as an author in general, please let me know because it keeps me in good spirits which is when I become inspired to write more!
Lord Warrick of Bodiam Castle
“May I speak, men?” exclaimed Warrick, clutching his mead with a ring-filled hand.
“Aye, speak!” came the harmonised cry from his noble army.
“Today,” he began. “We conquered the impenetrable fortress of noble Cederic the Great. Last month, we pillaged the fields of Denver. And the month before last, we plundered our dear enemies of the northern shore. From our conquests, we gain fine wine, treasures of gold and … pleasurable company. In the spirits of our forefathers we gain but one more unshadowed prize; honour, my friends. Honour is gathered not by sword, axe nor bow; but from courage, dominance, and leadership. Honour, my friends, is the tax with which we force our enemies to pay. Honour, my friends, is mine, is yours, and the unbreakable city of Bodiam. My friends raise your chalice to the sky and pray that when you breathe your last, you will conclude your days as free men, as noble men, as honourable men.”
“Aye, with honour!”
Celebrations of the glorious day’s victory continued through the night. The banquet hall of Bodiam Castle was alive with music, laughter and boasting amongst many a soldier. Though much wealth was acquired from the city of Arundel and from Prince Cederic himself; the cups, plates and thrones in the feasting hall was of gold, silver and brass plundered from none, but fashioned by the finest craftsmen in Bodiam and beyond. Flames within the castle remained burning for hours past midnight and not man nor beast could deter the city from festivities.
At the fore of the banquet hall sat the great Lord Warrick, the ruler of Bodiam and commander of its army. Also, to Warrick’s right, his brother, Duke Brishen and to his right sat Lady Dulcina, wife of the duke. To the left of the noble King was only her Lady Aethelfled, the queen of Arundel to whom Warrick was christened suitor.
“May I speak, men?” cried the Lord once again.
“Aye, speak!” replied the men in unison and quickly hushed.
“Today I am victorious over my enemies. Although I feel compelled to call not on my treasures, my feast or my kinsmen. I call tonight, my sweetheart; the fairest in all the world. From here I have travelled as far as God, Himself and yet I have never laid eyes on one more beautiful, more elegant than you, my lady.” Now turning to face his subject, Warrick grabbed her hand. “Fair Aethefled, being the purist of heart and the purist of women, would I have your hand in holy unity? Would you take me, Lord Warrick of Bodiam to be with you for the end of our days and beyond what time can measure? What say you, to be bound to a man who, with not sour tongue, call upon you as the grace of God’s creation in purist of heart and most stunning in display? What say you, my Lady?”
“My Lord Warrick, this morning you marched upon my house. This afternoon you sacked my home and thwarted my husband. This evening you returned me to your fine house along with my treasures and this night, you ask for my hand in holy unity. Should I not look upon you with disgust, resentment and hatred? Should I not say unto you ‘go forth to another maiden’s house, for what you seek here you shall not receive’? No, I should not. You have won mine home, my treasures and my husband’s honour, and, in the same fashion, you have won my hand. It is yours to have and to hold for this lifetime and a thousand to come. You will have my hand in holy unity and with it, I shall be yours.”
A grand cheer rang over the dining hall, through castle and beyond. The word was spread that Lord Warrick the Conqueror was to marry his prize. “She shall bear him an heir that would one day rule with the same ferocity and honour of his father and grandfathers.” The announcement grew. “The ceremony shall be as grand and magnificent as had never been seen in an age. Bodiam’s people should gather in the streets and celebrate. Her noblemen should kneel before their new queen and His Lordship shall have his bride for ever and ever.”
