The Queen {revised}

The Queen {revised}

A Story by Patches I'm not so new anymore.
"

A story of eight parts written in verse

"

 

1.

Mother stood there

near the window.

The sunlight glinting

from her auburn hair.

 

Tears were running freely

down her ashen cheeks,

for the king, her husband

had been killed in battle.

 

The brightness of the day

the soft summer wind

gave no inkling to the

darkness of her thoughts.

 

A discordant thunder of hoof beats

desecrated the silence,

slowly banners of the foe began to appear

as they topped the rise before our stronghold.

 

Mother watched as they glutted the  low hill

 before our stronghold with their unwanted

unwelcomed presence.

 

In no hurry now

the enemy advanced slowly

almost majestically down to the plain.

A lone rider advanced.

 

The queen turned from the window.

 I watched in horror as she drew

the knife from its jeweled scabbard,

only her corpse would they find---

 

2.

 The rider, a herald

slowed his mount to a walk.

The black barred flag with the yellow field

carried by him remained open to the wind.

 

It was the war banner

of Michael the Magnificent!

I watched the herald advance to within ear shot.

 

"What terms?" I called down.

"Surrender or annilation."

"We cannot surrender,

 none here have that athority."

 

"Your queen."

"Dead."

"Commander?"

"Dead on the field of battle.

 

"No one holds the awful athority

that will deliver these

free people into tharalldom.

 

A tall knight advanced

to the side of the herald.

"Ho there, spokesperson,

I call on thee to affect the surrender.

 

"I await thy answer."

"Sir knight that I cannot do.

 It is not my place,

 nor have I the athority."

 

Then I grant thee the athority to die!

Thou hast until I reach myne war host

atop yon rise

to show the white flag!

 

3.

I stood on the parapet

watching as the tall knight

recrossed the plain and

began his ascent of the rise.

 

True to his word he turns

waiting for the white flag to show.

A small lad climbs the steps

carrring the flag of surrender.

 

I snatch it from him, call out.

 Wave the flag in the face of the herald

then cast it down at his feet

causing his mount to dance away.

 

This caused confusion---

the herald starts forward

repeats the question

"dost thou surrender?"

 

Silence greets his question

the parapet stands empty.

He shrugs and turns away.

The tall knight signals the advance.

 

Both wings move on his command

forming a crescent as they advace toward

our stronghold, there was no need to

completely surround us.

 

Our back faces a swamp.

A swamp that is both

a barrier and a blessing

We are under siege!

 

4.

The next morning

we are awakened

by the sound of hammers

I climb the parapet

 

 to discover Michael's engineers

 building siege machines---

Trebuchets, catapults, bricoles,

a ballista positioned to  take out our main gate---

 

A mangonel  large enough to throw 

boulder sized stones over the compound walls.

Each engine alone is enough to batter our

stronghold into submission.

 

The bulk of the enemy camp is

situated just out of bow range and

not having siege machines ourselves

we cannot answer their fire---

 

Fire! Our greatest concern

If Michael manages to start a blaze

within our walls there can be little doubt

as to the outcome of this siege.

 

We have food enough for four months

 and fresh water from a source in the swamp

 If that water source remains untouched

and God spares us the ravages of the siege machines---

 

We can possiblity hold out until Advent

and with a bit bit more of God's indulgence

until our Savior's Nativity. However all here realize 

it will be only through Divine Intervention this will come to pass.

 

I have sent couriers both afoot and on horseback

  with pleas of succor from our allies.

 It is too much, however, to expect their arrival

 before the onset of autumn.

 

5.

By the end of the eighth month

the weather had become hot and dry.

If not for rainwater cistern to supplement  the trickle

of our springwater we would have been in  dire strites.

 

If God did not interceed soon, our demise

was a certianty. Prayers as thck as the dust

that swirled around us was sent heavenward

through dry cracked lips.

 

The creak of dried wood, loud in the night

 kept us from slumber as the foe prepaired

 their siege engines:winding them tight and

 laying missles into their cradles for the morning flight.

 

Morning dawned hot and dry. A scorching wind blew from

our swamp toward the enemy camp. Perhaps, just perhaps

a few well placed arrows  from the bows of our strongest archers---

With a prayer launched toward heaven  and arrows toward the enemy

 

we waited, three scored hits, alas none were kills but three foemen

were out of the battle. Our archers fired another volley, but none

found their mark. A last futile flight was tried but by now the forward echelon

had retreated out of effective bow range.

 

Then the missles came, but all overshot the compound,

a volley of enemy shafts followed but fell short of the wall.

The wind that had died earlier picked up. It became so strong

that missles went wide of the compound or like the arrows fell short.

 

Because of the wind it was not long before the catapults ceased

their fire. The wind, hot and dry,blew for four days

and nights. On the fifth day it ceased completely leaving

dark clouds and a torrential rain storm in it's wake.

 

Our God was doing much to keep Michael and his

minions at bay. Fire arrows were useless, even the dreaded

"Greek Fire" was deemed useless as even it did ignite something

the rain would snuff it out.

 

The next morning found the plain a quagemire and also

 made the siege engines inoperateable.

 Michael had been stymied, not by our military prowess

 but by God!.

 

6.

 

Michael's war engines were useless,

his army bogged down, his knights

as ineffective as the war engines because

the tremendous weight of warhorse and

 

fully armored knight would soon have

turned the plain into a morass of mud

that no army could cross without suffering

debiltating loss--- if the foot moved first

 

the plain would become impassable for the

horse, If mounted kinghts went ahead there

was no way in heaven or hell that the infantry

could follow with speed or somehow manage to maintain their ranks.

 

After such a drenching rain it would take a week

or more of clement weather before the siege engines

would have dried suffcently for Michael to even  

comtemplate a mounted attack.

 

The ninth month began with great bluster and a

drying wind. In just a few days, the siege engines

would be at full power, The plain was drying at a much

faster rate than originally thought it would take.

 

Soon, if the machines did the devil's work the foe

would come charging through the rubble that had

been our stronghold. Burning, killing, rapine and plunder

would follow close behind, with no quarter given or expected.

 

It would be total defeat or impossible victory,

no one in the compound expected to be alive

 at battle's end... Our future looked grim--- if somehow

 we managed to survive 'till the first snow----

 

The enemy would most likely settle into winter quarters

still surrounding us. We would be starved out in short order

if that came to pass our one glimmer of hope was during

the respite help would arrive to drive Michael away.

 

We had held for six weeks, the weather was, at last

 beginning to moderate----

 How long, dear Lord

 How long?

 

7.

 

Not long, the rain of stones begain!

Our first casualty, the rainwater

cistern, followed by a weapons storage shed

 A man-at-arms and his family were killed

 

when a huge boluder crashed into his hut.

 Dust filled the air, mud made footing treacherous.

 A woman was decapitated by a stone as big as her

 head while crossing the compound.

 

To mount the parapet was tantamount to sucide,

Michael's archers were now well within range

of the compound, sending flight after flight

of arrows ovwer the wall, we cold only reply in kind and hope---

 

When a  monster arrow from the ballista crashed through

our main sallyport gate it left a hole big enough for foemen

to easily clamber through. All movement and shouting was stifled

One could here birdsong through that sudden eerie silence.

 

 "Archers to the rear, " I shouted and led them to just before the rear palisade

 where we had stored dozens of sheaves of arrows.

We stood awaiting the final onslaught. As the foe started forward

a cheer rqang out as from a thousand throats, we watched as they surged forward.

 

8.

 

The foe had to break their line

or jump the ballista bolt that had

smashed through our main entranceway

This gave us a slight advantage---

 

because they would not hit our spearline

with the full impetuous and weight of an

unbroken line. All this time (an eternity)

we were sending winged death into their ranks.

 

Our spearmen held for a long time as our archers

continusely sent flight after flight into the flanks

causing the foot to crowd toward the centre. This

added weight to their front and finally our spearmen gave way.

 

Then the carnage began in ernest as swords, knives, axes

and war hammers started their grisly work, slowly the

enemy pushed us back; our archers, crowded now

could no longer wield their bows effectively.

 

Dropping them, those of us who had hand weapons

waded into the melee. Michael and the bulk

of his knights were now inside the compound

pushing friend and foe toward the rear.

 

Looking toward the front, I spotted Michael in the forefront

hacking away with his great war axe making his slow way toward centre

His great warhorse rearing then plunging forward,

covered with blood from dozens of wounds---

 

Both the animal and Michael were magnificent in the heat of battle.

The only reason I was still alive--- I had picked up a shield with which

to ward off blows. Somehow I had been shoved to the outer edge

of this churning, sweating, swearing mass of humanity.

 

Dazed from a glancing blow to my pate but clear of the

seething mass waging war within a half- hundred steps of me

I spotted a broken sword lying partially submerged

 

in a puddle of muddy water. With a shout I ran and grabbed it.

When I looked up Michael was swinging his battle axe at my head---

recognizing me he shouted, "die thou snivelin bit--- his words were

coughed out in a surge of blood as I drove the broken sword

 

deep into his armpit. As he fell his powerful steed stumbled

pinning him to the ground. With a look of disgust and hatred

Michael cursed me as he died. Panic seized the foe and a cry went up;

the Prince is dead! The Prince is dead!

 

We slowly drove them back through the ruined gate if the sallyport

The route had begun! As we pushed them onto the plain

they scattered like leavers before the wind.

I stood by the sallyport just watching, dazed or crazed.

 

We had won, beaten with the help 

and grace of God the most feared and disaplined army

in our little corner of the world, but at what cost?

 I had liost my entire family, killed my adopted brother----

 

I was picked up and carried throughout the compound---

still unable to comprehend the wonder of what God had wrought.

The people were singing Te Dieums, laughing, crying, shouting---

 Huzzah, huzzah long live our warrior queen! Long live

 Magdelena the Magnificent!

 

Finis

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

© 2011 Patches I'm not so new anymore.


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Added on January 31, 2011
Last Updated on February 1, 2011
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