When old King Groff drew his sword and pointed it at the enemy we all expected death: glorious, song-worthy death, but death nonetheless.
When the enemy fled, routed, His Majesty was the only one among us not to seem surprised. When the enemy reformed, regrouped on the plains below, the King understood: fear of him was the only thing keeping them at bay.
He called the witches, and they came, and the King was turned to stone. We moved him, the statue of him, up to the bluffs overlooking the enemy, and there he stands.
Ten years, they’ve stayed away.
Nicely done!!!! A threat in silhouette, I presume?
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely :-) Thanks!
DeleteThe ultimate sacrifice. Nicely done.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading and commenting :-)
DeleteDear David,
ReplyDeleteDesperate times...desperate measures. Good one.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Thank you! :-)
DeleteDavid, This program seems to have swallowed up my first comment. You might want to check your Spam filter. This is something like what it said: That was a big sacrifice.I guess he was old, loved his subjects, and wanted to go down well in history. I'm sure he did. Well-written and good story. : ) ---Susan
ReplyDeleteThank you very much :-)
DeleteGreat story, and what a dedicated king!
ReplyDeleteThank you for reading and commenting! :-)
Delete