Uprising In Gonjolard (Part 4) | Freewrite: 3/22/24 | Prompt: A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

^{Source: @wakeupkitty for contest purposes...}

PART 3:
Once inside the prison, the head soldier who had captured Alphonse then separated him, seeming to take a personal interest by steering him toward an empty cell.

After four days, the head soldier returned. No closer to clarity, Alphonse was skeptical when suddenly, the soldier whispered, "Vicar Tibost arranged for me to capture you. Keep to yourself and keep your mouth shut. No harm will come to you. I promise."

Alphonse retreated in shock. He didn't want to believe this man's words. He'd heard promises before. Questions swirled as Alphonse wondered why should he believe someone he know nothing about? And why would Vicar Tibost betray me and now attempt to keep me safe?

Confused even further, Alphonse stood quietly listening as the soldier divulged this even puzzling information. "As I told you, we all have a role to play in this rebellion. My name is Simon. The town of Gonjolard has many eyes in numerous places who have vowed to keep the identity of the SOB and their plans safe."

Alphonse didn't want to believe this man named Simon. Torn in two different directions, he was unsure who or what to believe. Nothing made sense. Now he was headed to the castle to face the king. For his part in the rebellion, he was proud to answer to the charges that would be heaped upon his head.

Choking back tears, as the image of his parents appeared plowing in the fields before men set torches upon their cottage, Alphonse promised them revenge.

And he'd begin with capturing and killing Vicar Tibost.

Now, Part 4

Footsteps inched closer to the middle of the room. A pause. In the sequence of three; one; two, raps landed swiftly on the cottage floor. The cottage dweller waited for the return signal. From the corner of the cellar, a dark figure tipped cautiously toward the door as shadows from the glow of embers in the cottage penetrated the slits. A few seconds later, the lock turned. From above, Peasant Raul lifted the heavy wooden door and stood gazing upon the dark outline of Vicar Tibost's face.

Instantly, the man descended the short set of stairs. Vicar Tibost accepted the bowl of clear soup topped with a few vegetables and a stump of bread brought to him. He retreated to the wooden box and eased down, careful not to spill the small meal.

"Thank you brother and thank God for my safety and the important part brave members of the Sons of Bodars habe played. Have you any word of Alphonse?" Vicar Tibost questioned in a hoarse voice.

"None, vicar. I hope all is well and proceeding to plan." That Vicar Tibost was weary was no doubt as Peasant Raul watched his wide jaws consume the food. His heart ached for his sacrifices.

Fourteen days under cover in the small cellar without knowledge of the rebellion's final plans brought renewed worries. The danger to all peasants was at hand marching swiftly as the annual town Fair approached.

Raul left his friend sitting on the crate with his head hung low.

His decisions crucial to the success of the SOB and the villages lingered in sorrow. Regret spread as the face of the one person who volunteered and then risked his life to bring him the list of loyalists appeared before him.

He remembered the immediate connection and trust he formed with the young lad, Alphonse. A trust he broke within the hour of their meeting by his betrayal, all in the name of the Sons of Bodars, or SOB, and of freedom.

Two weeks earlier, he had fled through the dark, narrow passage in the opposite direction from Alphonse. Breathing heavily, several times he slowed and leaned against the tunnel wall.

Vicar Tibost held his head back, cursing for not being able to move at a faster pace. I must address this inconvenience, he promised, frowning. But today isn't time to dwell on reducing my girth by several stones. Why am I rushing? Simon wouldn't disobey my orders and abandon his mission to capture Alphonse.

He feared the tunnel would be blocked near the castle exit, but a faint light shone as he held high the lantern. With one hand guiding his progress along the wall, he made it to the gate. It should be unlocked, and one shove with his massive body pushed the iron bars open.

Vicar Tibost emerged from the tunnel out into the early morning.

The rising sun cast a radiant glow across the sky. Nearby, sprinkles of flaxen sunlight lit up the immaculate gardens covering the castle grounds.

Fields of nothingness but exquisite grounds and well-kept gardens with fragrant flowers, beautiful trees and bushes beautify the landscape. For enjoyment only, they tell of a rank of citizens who toil endlessly only at pleasure. Huge crenelations for their archers or others with which to aim, not for protecting the realm from invaders but mostly for securing their leisure lifestyle and sport from the envy of the peasants.

He shrank back as voices interrupted his appreciation of a life he once held dear.

Disappointed, he learned that the Crown and its castle of ten round towers connected by narrow walls of granite ringing hollow and shallow with intrigue no longer held pleasure nor pride for him. With its grand windows and ornate halls supported by the taxes from the coffers filled by the peasants under the brutal and unforgiving laws.

How quickly the slow realization unfolded of the extent to which the true nature of his once magnificent country had deteriorated. Proclamations exposed the evil within the castle walls under a ruler whose intentions were not for the good of his subjects.

Vicar Tibost moved behind the brush. He thanked God for his discovery as a boy of the tunnels as he played with friends and happened upon the entrance. Keeping his discovery secret, he never envisioned the passageways would one day be used to protect him from the Crown.

He had no intention of engaging with the guards. He crouched as they passed in front of him, then marched toward their assigned duties.

Once clear, he fled behind the manicured gardens. Resembling a maze, he cared not for their twists and turns as he knew the paths well.

The sunlight began to beat down among the thinning strands on his head. Beads of sweat poured by his face. He paused behind a large tree and pulled off a layer of clothing, then stuffed them in his pouch. Across the long bridge beside the moat, Vicar Tibost fled, hiding in the thick brush as the slightest unfamiliar sound of the forest.

A subtle whistle was answered by a low snort. Peering from behind the tree, he smiled. Nearby he spotted his steed, exactly the located where Alphonse indicated.

Mounting his horse, he rode swiftly toward the clearing ahead. It afforded him a view of the nearest village over the ridge. And to safety among the members of the SOB.

Now, hiding in the home of Peasant Raul was not his first option. He cared deeply for his friend. He counted Raul among his dearest. Raul's loyalty to the rebellion in helping to free his fellow peasants was noble. That Raul would risk his life to offer him shelter was indeed a test of that friendship. Like many others, he too worried about his family in case he were captured and hauled to debtor's prison.

His thoughts turned to Alphonse.

He hoped the young lad would forgives him for the deceit. Using him as barter for a diversion to carry the false rebellion plans to the Crown was a solid solution.

Next, the meeting in the morning with the SOB to finalize the plans for the Fair to be held in the town of Gonjolard.

[to be continued...]

Welcome back to my freewrite prompt story for this week. The photo that is the subject of the story spoke to me about a person who is determined not to be recognized.

Describe what you see.
A crow overhead approaches at the same time as a dark thundercloud. Castle buttresses are situated in the distance past the end of the street. Cottages sit on both sides of the street. Items are lined up against the cottages. Perhaps buckets to empty waste. A man dressed in a black, tattered robe is crossing the cobbled street. Two other individuals in the distance appear to be walking in the opposite direction.

Describe what you feel.
I feel that the cloaked man is on a mission. A secret one perhaps.

Write a story or poem about what you think is going on. I leave with you my story for: A Picture is Worth A Thousand Words (Part 4) - 3/22/24.

^{Image used with permission of contest owner}

For your convenience, I have included below a Spanish translation from DeepL for "Uprising In Gongolard (Part 4)" - Freewrite: 3/22/24 | Prompt: A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words.

! [Spanish Translation Click here]

^{Source: @wakeupkitty for contest purpose...}

Sublevación en Gonjolard (Parte 4)

Bienvenidos de nuevo a mi historia de libre escritura de esta semana. La foto que es el tema de la historia me habló de una persona que está decidido a no ser reconocido.

Describa lo que ve
Un cuervo se acerca al mismo tiempo que un oscuro nubarrón. Los contrafuertes del castillo se sitúan a lo lejos, pasado el final de la calle. A ambos lados de la calle hay casas de campo. Hay objetos alineados junto a las casas. Tal vez cubos para vaciar los desperdicios. Un hombre vestido con una túnica negra y andrajosa cruza la calle empedrada. A lo lejos, otros dos individuos parecen caminar en dirección contraria.

Describe lo que sientes
Siento que el hombre encapotado está en una misión. Una secreta tal vez.

Escribe una historia o un poema sobre lo que crees que está pasando. Os dejo mi historia para:
A Picture is Worth A Thousand Words - 3/22/24.

Los pasos se acercaban al centro de la habitación. Una pausa. En la secuencia de tres, uno, dos, los golpes aterrizaron rápidamente en el suelo de la cabaña. El habitante de la cabaña esperó la señal de vuelta. Desde la esquina del sótano, una figura oscura se inclinó cautelosamente hacia la puerta mientras las sombras del resplandor de las brasas de la cabaña penetraban por las rendijas. Unos segundos después, la cerradura giró. Desde arriba, el campesino Raúl levantó la pesada puerta de madera y se quedó contemplando la oscura silueta del rostro del vicario Tibost.

Al instante, el hombre descendió las cortas escaleras. El vicario Tibost aceptó el cuenco de sopa clara con unas pocas verduras y un trozo de pan que le trajeron. Se acercó a la caja de madera y se inclinó, con cuidado de no derramar la pequeña comida.

"Gracias, hermano, y gracias a Dios por mi seguridad y por el importante papel que han desempeñado los valientes miembros de los Hijos de Bodars. ¿Sabes algo de Alphonse?". preguntó el vicario Tibost con voz ronca.

"Ninguna, vicario. Espero que todo vaya bien y según lo previsto". Que el vicario Tibost estaba cansado no cabía duda mientras el campesino Raúl observaba sus anchas mandíbulas consumir la comida. Le dolía el corazón por sus sacrificios.

Catorce días a cubierto en la pequeña bodega sin conocer los planes finales de la rebelión le trajeron nuevas preocupaciones. El peligro para todos los campesinos estaba al alcance de la mano marchando velozmente a medida que se acercaba la Feria anual del pueblo.

Raúl dejó a su amigo sentado en el cajón con la cabeza gacha.

Sus decisiones fueron cruciales para el éxito del SOB y los pueblos se sumieron en la tristeza. El arrepentimiento se extendió cuando apareció ante él el rostro de la única persona que se ofreció voluntaria y luego arriesgó su vida para llevarle la lista de leales.

Recordó la inmediata conexión y confianza que formó con el joven Alphonse. Una confianza que rompió a la hora de conocerse con su traición, todo en nombre de los Hijos de Bodars, o SOB, y de la libertad.

Dos semanas antes, había huido por el oscuro y estrecho pasadizo en dirección opuesta a Alphonse. Respirando agitadamente, varias veces aminoró la marcha y se apoyó en la pared del túnel.

El vicario Tibost echó la cabeza hacia atrás, maldiciendo por no poder avanzar a un ritmo más rápido. Debo ocuparme de este inconveniente, prometió, frunciendo el ceño. Pero hoy no es el momento de pensar en reducir mi circunferencia en varias piedras. ¿Por qué me apresuro? Simon no desobedecería mis órdenes y abandonaría su misión de capturar a Alphonse.

Temía que el túnel estuviera bloqueado cerca de la salida del castillo, pero una tenue luz brilló mientras mantenía en alto la linterna. Con una mano guiando su avance a lo largo del muro, llegó hasta la puerta. Debería estar desbloqueada, y de un empujón con su enorme cuerpo empujó los barrotes de hierro para abrirla.

El vicario Tibost salió del túnel y se adentró en la mañana.

El sol naciente proyectaba un resplandor radiante en el cielo. Cerca de allí, rocíos de luz solar de color lino iluminaban los inmaculados jardines que cubrían los terrenos del castillo.

Campos de la nada, pero terrenos exquisitos y jardines bien cuidados con flores fragantes, árboles y arbustos hermosos embellecen el paisaje. Sólo para el disfrute, hablan de un rango de ciudadanos que trabajan sin descanso sólo a placer. Enormes almenas para sus arqueros u otros con las que apuntar, no para proteger el reino de los invasores, sino sobre todo para asegurar su estilo de vida de ocio y deporte de la envidia de los campesinos.

Se encogió cuando las voces interrumpieron su apreciación de una vida que una vez tuvo en gran estima.

Decepcionado, se enteró de que la Corona y su castillo de diez torres redondas unidas por estrechos muros de granito que sonaban huecos y poco profundos por la intriga ya no le producían placer ni orgullo. Con sus grandes ventanales y salones ornamentados sostenidos por los impuestos de las arcas llenadas por los campesinos bajo las leyes brutales e implacables.

Con qué rapidez se fue dando cuenta de hasta qué punto se había deteriorado la verdadera naturaleza de su antaño magnífico país. Las proclamaciones expusieron la maldad dentro de los muros del castillo bajo un gobernante cuyas intenciones no eran para el bien de sus súbditos.

El vicario Tibost se movió detrás de la maleza. Dio gracias a Dios por haber descubierto los túneles de niño, cuando jugaba con sus amigos y se topó por casualidad con la entrada. Manteniendo su descubrimiento en secreto, nunca imaginó que los pasadizos se utilizarían algún día para protegerse de la Corona.

No tenía intención de enfrentarse a los guardias. Se agachó cuando pasaron por delante de él, y luego marchó hacia sus tareas asignadas.

Una vez despejado, huyó detrás de los cuidados jardines. Parecían un laberinto, pero no le importaban sus recodos, ya que conocía bien los caminos.

La luz del sol empezaba a incidir entre las finas hebras de su cabeza. Gotas de sudor caían por su rostro. Se detuvo detrás de un gran árbol y se quitó una capa de ropa, metiéndola luego en su zurrón. A través del largo puente junto al foso, el vicario Tibost huyó, escondiéndose entre la espesa maleza al menor sonido desconocido del bosque.

Un sutil silbido fue respondido por un bufido bajo. Mirando desde detrás del árbol, sonrió. Cerca de él divisó a su corcel, exactamente en el lugar indicado por Alphonse.

Montó en su caballo y cabalgó rápidamente hacia el claro. Desde allí podía ver la aldea de Newrest al otro lado de la cresta. Y a la seguridad entre los miembros del SOB.

Esconderse en la casa del campesino Raúl no era su primera opción. Su amigo le importaba mucho. Contaba a Raúl entre sus seres más queridos. La lealtad de Raúl a la rebelión al ayudar a liberar a sus compañeros campesinos era noble. Que Raúl arriesgara su vida para ofrecerle cobijo era, en efecto, una prueba de esa amistad. Como muchos otros, él también se preocupaba por su familia en caso de que lo capturaran y lo llevaran a la prisión de deudores.

Sus pensamientos se volvieron hacia Alphonse.

Esperaba que el joven le perdonara por el engaño. Utilizarlo como trueque para una distracción para llevar los falsos planes de rebelión a la Corona era una solución sólida.

A continuación, la reunión por la mañana con el SOB para ultimar los planes de la Feria que se celebraría en la ciudad de Gonjolard.

[continuará...]

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/