Uprising in Gonjolard (Part 11) | A Picture Is Worth a Thousand Words

Part 10

King Hartfelt sat quietly, perturbed while his son, Prince Gawdawfel handed down his judgments and sentenced the first group of prisoners to the gallows at sunrise. He waited wearily in pain for the entire proceeding to conclude.

Meanwhile, Lord Foucant of the Eastern Rune Village and Lord Toleranz, of the Southeastern Squire Village, watched Gawdawfel and formulated their own plans to assist the SOBs.

The palace crowd again erupted in cheers at the announcement that the rebellious leader, Alphonse, was present and doomed to be punished.

As Simon presented the leader of the SOBs to the Crown, Prince Gawdawfel rose sharply, stunned by the sight before him. A spasm of fear and other emotions crossed his face and drained his color.

Simon handed Gawdawfel the plans for rebellion. He studied them with an incensed countenance upon learning SOB planned to utilize the Festival of Gonjoloard to betray the Crown. He thanked Simon and assured a reward was forthcoming.

Then the shocking revelation came. Gawdawfel's faithful servant, Arnaldo, who was also faithful first to the Queen interrupted the prince's sentencing whereby he boldly declared to the entire court that Alphonse was the bastard son of Gawdawfel.

Gawdawfel gasped and covered his face. It was as if he were looking at a younger version of himself. A time before he destroyed his mother's heritage with his ebony hair and took on his father's fairer color. Still, he refused to believe Alphonse was his son.

That wasn't the only news. Lauryn emerged from behind the shadows as guards ushered her forward. Gawdawfel's wicked smile slashed every inch of Lauryn's body. He licked his lips upon seeing her, remembering the cruelty he dealt her during her time at the castle.

The revelation about the SOB's leader, Alphonse, being his grandson was too much for King Hartfelt. He exited the Great Hall knowing full well the annual Gonjolard Festival was only a few hours away.

Now, Part 11

Silence pervaded the Great Hall after Arnaldo's revelation that the leader of the SOB, Alphonse, was actually the bastard son of Prince Gawdawfel. To some pledged to the prince, the news was a dreaded development. Others cheerfully applauded the situation as an opportunity to rid the Kingdom of the cruel prince. Choices of significant consequence.

The words were worthy to be spread throughout the Kingdom by members of court who were intrigued by the news. Assignments were agreed upon as to responsibility for each region. An eventful and productive day at the castle, one jester joked with another.

The joke fell of deaf ears of Lords Foucant and Toleranz.

Either way, they reasoned, the Kingdom required riddance of the Crown. One unwilling to act and another incapable of acting on behalf of the good of the people.

The lords loathed the unfair tax burden heaped upon the poor villagers that prompted retaliatory mercenaries to act on their behalf, thereby crippling the lords' ability to sustain their feifdoms. No alternative was left but to switch loyalties and side with the peasants and Bodars. The Crown had long since denied them any relief. Greed and lack of disregard for the common people were encased in stone with a blind eye turned inward.

Once the lords removed the crests from their cloaks and handed them to their guards, their plans were set in motion.

Their instructions were clear. Lauryn's brother, Simon, acknowledged their wishes and allowed Josiah and another guard to lead Alphonse out of the Great Hall.

"Remain with me sister," Simon whispered to Lauryn as he tightened his grip on her arm. "No harm will come to him. We are needed elsewhere. I'll explain on the way."

Once outside, the pale crescent moon shone like a silver dagger in the night sky. A hint of events to come perhaps, Alphonse thought as the guards led him a few steps away from the ears of others leaving the castle.

The night had cast long shadows on the castle grounds, forcing the guards to avoid the front entrance. Off toward the edge of the castle grounds Josiah and his fellow guard rushed Alphonse until they reached the entrance to the back of the castle.

Puzzled, Alphonse gazed straight ahead, his mind racing. Immediately, he remembered the entrance gate ahead was the same that led to the tunnel where he was first captured after parting ways with Vicar Tibost.

"Wait here for our Lords Foucant and Toleranz," Josiah instructed after removing the restraints from his wrists.

Alphonse soon realized he wasn't to be executed at morning light. "Are the lords friend or foe?" he queried, desiring to know his fate.

Josiah smiled, grabbed Alphonse's shoulders, and embraced him before saying, "we stand with you, Prince Alphonse."

As soon as they left, Lords Foucant and Toleranz appeared. Offering Alphonse a steed, they shook his hand, then handed him his sword and other weapons that Simon kept safe for the day he would be freed.

The three rode off to safety into the night away from the castle. But most importantly, to set in motion the next phase of the SOB's course of action now that false plans of rebellion had been delivered to the Crown.

Having already left the Great Hall with the SOB's battle plans in hand, Gawdawfel headed to seek his father's counsel.

King Hartfelt, unable to handle the revelation that Arnaldo imparted to the court, had previously exited the Great Hall and retreated to his bedchamber. There his servants tended to him lovingly.

The King had no knowledge of events that transpired afterward and could only guess the cruelty his son had inflicted. The king watched as Gawdawfel paced the floor of his bedchamber. He rolled his eyes, then dismissed his attendant.

Alone with his son, he could now explore the implications of Arnaldo's confession. That it was true if it involved the Queen was without question. He lay in his bed staring at the drops of moisture on the windowsill.

Arnaldo's words from the mystic, Izorah, rang in his ear like a death wish over the Kingdom. Her warning was clear.

"The Mirror of Secrets do not lie. It was foretold. I heard her spoken words with the help of your late Queen. Beware Prince. You have sowed your seed wide. The Queen knew the sprout had taken root, but not in your own likeness. Where you are weak, it will be mighty. Where you are vain, it will crush your arrogance. Izorah warned you these many years. But your refusal to change and your recklessness you will face soon, for beyond these walls, your power will come to an end."

Gawdawfel avoided his father's eyes that he knew the haunting question would beg. Instead, he focused on the threat to the Crown.

"An ingenious plan, I must admit, father. Whoever designed it was knowledgeable of the castle and our battle strategies. Access to the castle this person was given. Are you sure your subjects are loyal?"

Gawdawfel's attempt to deflect and discard his own weaknesses was fleeting as he handed his father the SOB's rebellion plans.

King Hartfelt studied them carefully. After a long, weary pause, he spoke slowly. "Attacking from the Southern region while our army is deployed to the North and East defending the coast would have weakened our army and guaranteed the Crown's defeat."

"It is with leadership and foresight my orders to employ spies throughout the Kingdom succeeded. The spies were more adept to have crossed paths and intercepted the plans. They are to be rewarded handsomely."

"Yes, you have proven yourself capable although cruel, son in your strategy. However, as your leader and King of Gonjolard, I order you to halt the persecutions you directed earlier!"

Gawdawfel turned and stared at his father in disbelief. "I can not and will not! They hang at sunrise!"

"And what of the leader of the rebellious group?" The king shot a hopeful glance at Gawdawfel.

"I'll cut him down like the traitor swine he is!" shouted Gawdawfel with his nostrils flaring, lips curled, teeth baring, and shoulders heaving.

King Hartfelt stared at the prince for a long while.

"You would kill your own son, your blood, the heir to the Kingdom one day? If you didn't believe it as true, you would not have claimed Arnaldo's head."

Silence hung over the bedchamber like a heavy quilt.

Again, the truth dagger that stabs you, then twists into your gut as if carving out the details, tells no lies. It had hit Gawdawfel the moment he raised his eyes to Alphonse. Anger, power, revenge, loathing. Sensing danger to himself, Gawdawfel's eyes widened. For the first time in his life, he feared for his eventual reign as the future king.

Gawfadwel remembered Alphonse's angry retort, "You can try, but thousands more will rise up until you no longer breathe Gonjolardan air.

"Yes, I would kill him, father in any case. He is a threat to our Crown. Not only me, but you as well. He means us harm. In his eyes, I could see he has no fear. A man who has no fear is to be greatly feared and removed from this Kingdom before he gathers an army behind him."

A long silence fell between them raising a shield of distrust. King Hartfelt knew even before his son came to his chambers the course of action he must undertake himself.

"It is true what Arnaldo confessed. I know it now and have no reason to doubt my Queen's actions on behalf of the bastard child. If she felt it prudent to hide him for me, then I respect her decision. Did you realize that The Mirror of Secrets belonged to her? Perhaps she longed for the change in you that never blossomed."

The King paused. Instead of being proud to have his seed grow to manhood, Gawdawfel would never admit to his actions. Receiving no response, the King continued.

"Son, you attend the Festival while I ride out and crush the rebels with our army. A surprise attack knowing now their battle plans."

"No father, allow me to crush them!" Gawdawfel yelled. "It is I they rebel against. Let me show them who their king will be." He stressed his next words. "They...will...fear...me...after...the morrow!"

The King thought for a moment.

"I forbid this. You are my heir. You need to remain in Gonjolard for the Festival and preside over it as the next leader in case I fail to return. My word is final!"

"As your son, you should know better. I won't take orders from a man too weak to go to the privy by himself."

"King Hartfelt pulled himself up and propped his arms against his pillow. "You will else you'll not live to see the executions at sunrise."