Alone in his bedchambers with his son, Prince Gawdawfel, King Hartfelt studied the rebellion plans by the SOB to use the annual Festival of Gonjolard as a diversion. Then he listened quietly in shock as Gawdawfel spoke of killing his own bastard son, Alphonse. For the good of the Kingdom was the reason given.
The king forbade his son to kill not only Alphonse but the other prisoners as well. He also forbade his son to lead the army against the rebellion.
Gawdawfel refused on both counts, stating the deaths would be for the good of the Kingdom.
As Simon secured Alphonse's release into the hands of Foucant and Toleranz for safety, then protected Lauryn, the king and prince were unaware of this development that could alter their plan.
Meanwhile, Lord Foucant of the Eastern Rune Village and Lord Toleranz, of the Southeastern Squire Village, put in place their own plans to assist the SOB.
Across the sea, allies waited for instructions from Foucant and Toleranz as to the timing to sail for the Kingdom of Gonjolard to assist in their rebellion.
Gawdawfel, defiant of his father, left his bedchamber to ponder the king's last words. Surely, the king was only postering to suggest any ill will to be acted on toward me, he mused. Still.
And the annual Gonjolard Festival was only a few hours away as both king and prince prepared for this historic event.
Now, Part 12
Alphonse was free thanks to Lords Foucant and Toleranz. Off to safety in the night they road away from the castle leaving behind false plans of rebellion that the king and prince were in all likelihood studying and devising a counter offensive. At least that was all they could hope to achieve.
Those events were exactly what occurred as Prince Gawdawfel left his father in a fit of rage. How dare he threaten me with death, he fumed.
By the time Gawdawfel reached his own chambers, he summoned his new guard, Umaldo, who he'd chosen to replace Arnaldo. Having one's head removed after an unacceptable response from the prince didn't bode well for family members of potential replacements.
After first swearing fealty and secrecy, Umaldo fetched the Mirror of Secrets, then helped Gawdawfel disrobe. Umaldo left the room, unsure whether his new position would be a good fit or for how long it would last. Thus far with the prince's subdued countenance and the rumors swirling at court, he couldn't predict.
Alone, Gawdawfel rushed to summon Izorah. He sat, waiting for her appearance. Minutes later, anger overtook him. He grabbed the mirror and hurled it across the room. Shattered, the Mirror of Secrets would no longer provide him guidance.
Leaning back from the edge of his bed, Gawdawfel devised a new plan. Of course, he would follow through with his orders to execute the prisoners at dawn. Saliva dripped as the image of Alphonse hanging from the gallows rushed forth.
And my father will die in battle. Of that, he was certain.
However, he couldn't play his hand too soon. He'd never tell his father, but had to admit that his idea of him remaining in Gonjolard to oversee the Festival was an opportunity to spread the word of his commitment to the Crown, its subjects.
If I stand between both ends and promise submission of each to the other, I'll watch them destroy one another. A civil war. The Kingdom will be none the wiser. Then I alone will be seen as the one who brought peace to the land. A clever plan, he surmised as he smiled wickedly, clasping his weapon.
From his bedchamber, King Hartfelt devised his own plan.
An idea surfaced. Promising to make him heir instead of Gawdawfel for the sake of peace in the Kingdom should suffice he hoped. I must speak with Alphonse alone immediately and reason with him, he thought.
Twenty minutes later, Sir Gollett, King Hartfelt's hand, reported to him that Alphonse had not been returned to the dungeon as ordered by Gawdawfel to await hanging. Although he'd ordered Gawdawfel not to execute the young man, that he allowed the leader of the rebellion to go free he didn't believe.
Only one other course he could envision transpired. Traitors at court have betrayed us and returned Alphonse to the rebellion. Suddenly, he remembered Gawdawfel's words.
"Yes, I would kill Alphonse, father. He is a threat to our Crown. He means us harm. I could see he has no fear in his eyes. A man who has no fear is to be greatly feared and removed from this Kingdom before he gathers an army behind him."
I wished he might have been a trustworthy fellow to be reasoned with, he thought, but I know that no man wants his life to end on the gallows. "However, I can't and won't allow him to gather an army in opposition to the Crown," the king whispered.
FREYJA'S DAY
The long awaited midsummer day of celebration for the annual Gonjolard Festival had arrived. Every year for two days, villagers as well as townspeople set aside their hardships and differences to celebrate the Festival of Gonjolard. The official date of the festival was originally celebrated on one day, but villagers weary from long travels to the town initiated the tradition of spending the night. Of course, the morrow brought fresh opportunities to celebrate. No food and drink would be wasted.
Numerous preparations and much decorative creativity is poured into this holiday steeped in ancient roots in the Kingdom. Traditional dances, songs, food, drink, games, bonfires, candle lighting, theatrical plays, and competitions are enjoyed by all who attend.
The day dawned cloudy, not as expected. But still a festive atmosphere spread over the Kingdom.
Despite the rumors in recent years of the Crown's troubles laid at the feet of Prince Gawdawfel, foreigners on amicable terms arrived from across the Kingdom's western shore to participate in the event.
They came in hopes of unity. Language was no barrier where fun and games for all ages were waiting. Many romantic gestures and bonding of houses near and far took place. Of one thing the visitors were assured, the townspeople and villagers in the Kingdom of Gonjolard were hospitable.
A bizarre scene if one didn't know the the happenings in two-week long ordeal in Gonjolard.
On one end of the town near the castle, preparations by the townspeople were underway with nearby villagers volunteering to help. Jesters ordered by the King to entertain the crowd arrived early.
On the other, villagers and townspeople alike brought food and handcrafted items to sell and share for the town market. Others strolled through the square trying not to think of the gallows above their heads. Rumors spread throughout the Kingdom these subjects convicted by Prince Gawdawfel were innocent of any wrongdoing.
The significance of the Festival of Gonjolard his grandfather declared evidencing their heritage was not lost on King Hartfelt.
In his quest for some measure of peace, at the first hour of daylight, Sir Gollett reported to his side to accompanied him. Although still feeling ill, his mission was clear; to intercept the rebels and lead them away from the Festival. That way, the villagers would be unaware of any uprising.
Off to battle King Hartfelt rode, confident he and his army would return victorious.
On horseback and foot, the King's army marched though Gonjolard. Peasants had already gathered in the square, but paid no attention to the familiar sight of soldiers following their king to battle. The army made their way through ready for the task ahead.
King Hartfelt glanced up toward the scaffold where the gallows hung to see several prisoners with their feet dangling only inches from the platform. Alphonse was not among the dead.
That meant he would undoubtedly face him in battle. A sickening feeling rose in the pit of his already ailing stomach.
So be it, he thought and proceeded toward battle.
Prince Gawdawfel woke with renewed confidence certain his plan concocted the night before would succeed. Smiling broadly, he entered the balcony seat from which he intended to preside over the festival.
Umaldo announced the prince's presence. A hushed silence fell over the crowd. Prince Gawdawfel stepped forward and raised his hand.
"Welcome to the annual Festival of Gonjolard, my good people. I'm honored to be in your presence and that your loyalty to the Crown brought you here today. Let's all enjoy this wonderful gift from our forebears."
He signaled, and the buisines sounded. The Festival of Gonjolard had begun.
The crowd cheered with enthusiasm. A large number watched as the competitions got underway. Others played games and listened to music. Still others ate, drank, and danced. The jesters entertained all for hours.
At midday, Umaldo rose and signaled the festivities to pause. Now was Prince Gawdawfel's chance to address the crowd. He scoured the numerous people as they waited for him speak wondering why would he interrupt the festivities.
He began in a confident, rehearsed tone.
"Excuse my interruption of the festivities, good people of Gonjolard, but what I have to tell you is of the utmost importance. The Kingdom needs your help. I need your help. We've endured trying times in this country the past few decades. You, our citizens, are resilient. Without you, the Kingdom of Gonjolard would not survive. You are heroes."
The crowd clapped and cheered, shouting "Prince Gawdawfel, our new leader." Umaldo quieted them so he could continue.
But I need your fealty. Most of all, I need your help. I am surrounded by cowards. The Crown is under siege. Many of you have been led to believe that the Crown is your enemy. When in fact, it is the lords whom the Crown has given much. They abuse their power and lay siege to your lands. They bribe villagers and peasants to walk with them as miscreants; those who have abandoned their duties and now spread hatred against the Crown. All this was done without the Crown's permission. Our aim is to serve and protect.
The crowd fell silent, then whispered among themselves unsure of what they were being asked to do. Prince Gawdawfel felt their uncertainty. Now was the time to make his purpose clear.
"Hero, please look among you and ferret out those who would disrupt your way of life, take your women, burn your lands, and leave you in despair. They want war in our lands. They want us to fight among ourselves. They call themselves THE SONS OF BODARS. They are the ones who have plunged our Kingdom into moral decline."
"If each of you offered your assistance, we could overcome them easily. You do not have to take them all down. Be swift and strike true hero. Rid the Kingdom of as many of them as possible. If you want to be rewarded with a better life, distance yourself from these traitors and rebellious thieves of the Crown. Only then will the Kingdom of Gonjolard enjoy peace and prosperity."
Cottars, or the lowest of villagers, several of whom were in the row of the crowd, conferred with each other, then pulled their wives and children close. They decided that they would not cause conflict with their fellow peasants and villagers.
What Prince Gawdawfel was suggesting was civil war. Fighting among ourselves for the benefit of the Crown. No one else handed down judgement on our family members except him. Only this morning we saw evidence of that cruelty, Peasant Raul, who had helped Vicar Tibost hide away in his home, remarked.
Numerous spectators dispersed.
Lord Toleranz of the Southeastern Squire Village, parted the crowd and came to rest in front of the spectahors. He stepped out into the open, his sword drawn in one hand. In the other, he extended his long knife in the direction of Gawdawfel, before he continued in his loudest voice.
"You Lie, Gawdawfel. The cause of this moral decline is You, the perpetrator who stands in the shadows inflicting cruelty on our Kingdom while waiting for our King Hartfelt to die. You will never live to rule over me."
Prince Gawdawfel's eyes widened, shocked at the sight of Lord Toleranz, whom he considered a loyal friend. Why he would interrupt my speech, he thought as he rose to his feet and scoured the crowd below.
The prince jerked a sharp breath as Lord Toleranz's long knife hurled toward him. Without thinking, he grabbed Umaldo and pulled him until he stood in front as protection. The move was successful as Umaldo shrank from his grip and tumbled onto the balcony floor.
The court patrons nearby allowed to sit with Prince Gawdawfel let escape a loud gasp. Some screamed at the attempt on the prince's life and rushed from the balcony.
Immediately panic spread throughout the Festival as hordes of riders on horseback stormed the town. They brought bows and arrows and other weapons. With their shields, they upended games, rode over tables, destroyed decorations, engaged with the few soldiers left to defend the castle.
But their target was in sight.
Prince Gawdawfel froze. Trembling, he watched as the rebellious group of men approached. He didn't realize he was standing on the open balcony with no one at his side. His mind told his legs to run. Instead, they weakened. He shouted, "where are my guards!"
Assault on the citadel had begin.
[to be continued]
Welcome back to my freewrite prompt story for this week. The photos that are the subject of the story spoke to me about a king, a prince, a festival, a hanging, and an army all playing various parts in the Festival of Gonjolard.
Describe what you see.
One of the photos used in my series is that of a king dressed elegantly riding on his horse to battle with his army.
Describe what you feel.
The king is on a mission. Perhaps off to a battle that may present numerous obstacles. His return from battle is uncertain.
Write a story or poem about what you think is going on. I leave with you my story for:
Original PIC1000 Challenge
A Picture is Worth A Thousand Words - 3/22/24
PIC1000 Challenge
A Picture is Worth A Thousand Words - 4/12/24
Image used with permission of contest owner
For your convenience if you'd like to return to the beginning of the "Uprising In Gonjolard" saga, I set out below Chapters 1 - 11:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Good luck everyone with whatever your endeavors.
SOURCES:
a) JustClickindiva's Footer created in Canva utilizing its free background and images used with permission from discord admins.
b) Unless otherwise noted, all photos taken by me with my (i) Samsung Galaxy 10" Tablet, (ii) Samsung Phone, & (iii) FUJI FinePix S3380 - 14 Mega Pixels Digital Camera
c) Purple Butterfly part of purchased set of Spiritual Clip Art for my Personal Use
d) All Community logos, banners, page dividers used with permission of Discord Channel admins.
e) Ladies of Hive banner used with permission of and in accordance with the admin's guidelines
f) Thumbnail Image created by me in Canva.
g) "Flames." What is Apophysis 2.09. https://flam3.com/
Source-1 Created by the author in StarryAI, a stable diffusion program.
Source-2 Created by 
Source-3 Used with permission of Freewrite Community
Source-4 Created by
Source-5 Created by the author in StarryAI, a stable diffusion program.
Source-5 Created by the author in StarryAI, a stable diffusion program.
English is my native language.
If translation included, I use DeepL to assist my readers.
Thanks for your patience an understanding.