Trojan War Chapter 36

 

The battles and conflicts

 

36.

Chryseis stood before the console that had transmitted her last message out. Her eyes were with tears as she looked at the destruction of the City of Apollo. The city once reveled by the other worlds as the cultural center for arts, music, and healing was dedicated to Apollo of the Olympians. It covered a huge area with the many beautiful architecture designs of the worlds including that of the Apollo Coliseum that could seat a hundred thousand spectators, and the marvelous sculpture of the God adorned every corner of the venue. The place was also the venue for the annual festival of arts with Apollo as its patron.

“Troy is not a warring state. It’s a state of myriad cultures.” Apollo had made that remark when he first officiates the festival.

“I stand to plea for your mercy, Apollo. I, Chryseis had failed to preserve your city.” The intern of Apollo had then fallen to her knees while the city was bombarded and ravaged to the ground. She had once befriended Achilles; a contrast to her own beliefs and they had argued for days on the true qualities of life. Achilles being of the warrior breed had refused to be inducted into the gaiety of arts.

“The beauty of the beautiful, comes had with age may deter. The wisdom of the mind grew with age to be wiser.” Achilles said to her.

“There is no denial to wisdom but the mind should be open to more lest it’s dead,” Chryseis replied. “Why do you not embrace new views of your mind?”

It was those words that Achilles was soon to come to terms with Chryseis. It augured him well when he was to stay with the women at Lycomedes’ palace. He was able to interact with the women and hence his admiration for Chryseis.

“I prayed that this is not the works of Achilles.” Chryseis had prayed for her friend. It was then the doors to her chamber were broken in and the Archaeon warriors stormed in. The unruly warriors had come to pillage and violate any women in their path.

“A priestess? She will be mine.” The warrior had grabbed Chryseis by the left arm. She was pulled towards him and sight of blood on the chest plate. She was revolted by it but the warrior was to keep his prize.

“Stop your action.” The voice was from Agamemnon who had arrived there. “She is not to be taken. I will have her for myself.”

It was then that Chryseis was spared the humiliation by the warrior but her ordeal was not to end. She was taken to Agamemnon’s chamber in the city. The Archaeon leader had taken over that chamber upon the conquest of the city.

“Your name is Chryseis. I am told by the others that your family is of Troy. I have received the call by them to ransom you.” Agamemnon looked at her. “Who are you that your life is so crucial? Even my leader had favored no harm to you.”

“I am an intern at Apollo. I am also the High Priestess of Apollo City. If you do me any harm, not only will you suffer the anger of the Trojans but also of Apollo.” Chryseis had cautioned Agamemnon.

“And when have feared the Trojans? As for the Olympians, I will say this is not their war.” Agamemnon replied. It was then unprepared for the leader, Chryseis rushed not towards Agamemnon but to the wall opening. She jumped and it was a long way down.

“Why have you done it?” Agamemnon had stood at the wall opening and looking down not able to see where Chryseis may have landed. He was then to see more people leaping off the high wall openings.

“What madness had overcome them?” Agamemnon looked with anger. The mass suicides of the Trojan at Troy Five were partially fed by the rumors that the captives will be ejected into space as done by the Thracians. It did not escape the attention of Apollo who approached King Menelaus on the communication link.

“I am not hurt when your forces destroyed my city at Troy Five but the driven suicides of the interns and priestess with many others appalled me.” Apollo had appeared with his armor on and standing on the famed chariot of his. “My vengeance will now be…”

“Apollo, I do advise you hold us not responsible for that atrocity. We did not give the order to do…” King Menelaus had tried to explain the situation.

“You will see my vengeance soon.” Apollo had then terminated the communication link. King Menelaus called on Agamemnon to get clarification.

“It all happened too fast. I could not stop it.” Agamemnon told the King. The news had reached Achilles then. He was involved in the battle at Troy Three.

“Achilles, we are not having any progress.” Achilles was told of the attack at Troy Three. “Our fleet is retaliated by their allies.”

The combined fleet of Argos, Babylon, and the Macedonian with nine motherships, twenty destroyers, and forty frigates with over four thousand stealth fighters were met with resistance at the attack. Achilles had lost one mothership, five destroyers, and twelve frigates before he called for the strategic retreat.

“Achilles, whatever they have there is impenetrable.” Achilles heard the report. “Their cannons are hitting us hard. The shields are weakened when the projectiles impact on it.”

“We have adjusted the modulation on the shields but it was not effective.” The Weapon Officer added on.

Achilles had seen it. He saw one Argos mothership took a hit and after the third impact, the shield was penetrated. He had then called the retreat but not before losing the destroyers. The Trojan stealth fighters came in strong and hit the destroyers when it was retreating with its stealth fighters having docked in the hangers.

“Recall the ships to the outer orbit. We will arrange the next attack.” Achilles agitated at the loss on his return to active battles. He was not one to retreat.

“Achilles, I have the Mysian on communication.” Achilles was diverted his attention.

“Yes, Telephus.” Achilles looked to the image of the Mysian leader.

“I bring sad news. Our betrayal had been made known. We are now part of the enemy.” Telephus reported to Achilles. “The Amazons will like to have me roasted over the open fumes of the hot air vent.”

“Well, get over it.” Achilles then turned to the others in the fleet. “Whatever they have there, we are to plan another way to go in.”

Meanwhile, at Troy Four, the invasion was hampered by the Trojan fleet which was there in wait.

“Odysseus, we are under attack.” The pilot of the mothership called out. “Scanners registered two Motherships, five destroyers, and ten frigates at our starboard.”

 Odysseus held a larger fleet but he had split his ships into three smaller ones. He had brought only one mothership from the Cretan, and five destroyers from the Phoenicia, and Carthaginian while the twenty frigates are from the other worlds’; Parthians, and Barbicans. It was still a formidable strength to counter the Trojans.

“Counter them now,” Odysseus called out the command. “Fire all we got.”

“Affirmative, Commander.”: The pilot relayed the command. “Recall our stealth fighters.”

A thousand stealth fighters were deployed to bombard the remnants of Troy Four. The fleet was reported the three hundred from the Trojan defenses.

“Odysseus, we have resistance.” The pilot called back. “The Parthians frigates are registering impact on their shields…. No, they are done for. We lost two frigates.”

The two Parthians frigates were on the starboard side to provide cover and were the first to be hit.

“Reinforce the starboard. We will assist.” Odysseus had then realized that he was to see for himself the might of the new Trojan weapon. He was to recall the order when he got the next report.

“Two Carthaginians destroyers are pulling out. Their shields are low.” The pilot called out.

“Where are our stealth fighters? Are they all back?” Odysseus was concerned about the stealth fighters at the surface.

“We have only a hundred back. The others are engaged by the Trojan frigates and their stealth fighters. We are to leave…. Oh, have mercy on us. The Barbicans have lost five frigates. Our missiles are unable to make any impact.”

“Sound the retreat!” Odysseus called out. “We are outgunned.”

On the Trojan Mothership, Hector stood at the bridge to view the carnage at the Trojan Four outer atmosphere. He had brought his fleet there too late but they were winning the battle.

“Hector, Archaeon are withdrawing.” The commander of the mothership reported to Hector. “We cannot save Troy Four but we have avenged their deaths.”

“Our shields work and so were our weapons.” Hector was told. He smiled but inside of him, he knew that the Trojan ships were limited in that. He had sent the destroyers forward for those ships that were prepared.

“Hold the pursuit. We need to rescue Troy Four.” Hector had planned that when he arrived to engage the enemy.

Story Write Compilations Volume I Stories 17

 

David and Goliath

 

Author's Note:

Everyone knows David and Goliath but does anyone that there are more of them in this world than the ones in the Bible. I am to tell you about both I met before. This is their story.

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One day during a hard-fought battle in a long drawn out war, two generals of both sides decided to end the war with a single combat match. So they met on the battlefield with their truce flags in hand.

 

‘General Max, we decided a single combat match to end the war’, said the General of the Blue Army.

 

‘Aye, General Min, we agreed. Too many have died in the battle and we gain nothing from it’, said the General of the Red Army.

 

‘So how should we start this combat?’ asked General Max. And so the negotiations took place, carried on over the days and nights as they cannot agree to one single combat match rules and regulation. Accusations and defamatory statements are made but neither will yield to the other. And of course, the meals were served in accordance to one’s request, or they would have died of thirst or starvation. Finally, they agreed. So they went back to their lines and to select their champion. On the Red lines, General Min spoke to his weary men who are lying on the ground, in dire thirst and hunger, while holding onto their shields and lances.

 

‘I have conferred with the General Max of the Blue Army, that we will decide this war, by fighting one last battle. That battle will be a single combat fight to the dead. Whoever wins, will be the winner of this war. There will be only one match and we need to find a champion.’ So the men sat down to discuss and like their General; they could not agree to a champion. Even fights broke up among them to select the best of the best. Sadly, some died in the fights, and still, no champion was found; the so-called last champion died from his wounds before they can declare his champion. The scene was the same on the Blue lines, fights for the coveted position also occurred.

 

Finally, the weary soldiers on Red Line sat down and decided to pull straws to decide the champion. But the question was where do you find straws in the heap of amour and swords. Even a blade of grass was considered a miracle in the making. But someone did, he took it from the horses' bales and distributed the straws. But that did not suffice as they could not determine which to used; long or short, and every time someone declared he's got it, someone accused him of cheating. And finally, General Min sighed in defeat and walked over to the Blue lines, and he saw his counterpart also walking to him, in the same mode of drawn down shoulders. They met at the truce point and sat down for a drink.

 

‘I declared myself to lose this war, as my men cannot decide a champion at all.’, said General Min as he reached for his sword to hand over to the other General. To his surprised, General Max told him the same of his men. So the two Generals looked at each other and said in unison;’ Shall we just called it off as a no-win or lose situation. Then we can all go home. I am tired of fighting for any cause.’

 

So they shook hands and threw their swords and amour. Before they part, General Max asked his counterpart;’ Can I have your name please?’

 

‘It's Min Davi, as my dad thinks I am too small as a kid. What’s yours?’

 

‘It's Max Goliath, as my dad thinks I am too big as a kid. But today, neither of us is small or big, we are equal. We just learned to live together for peace. Something which we will need to teach our men that big or small, we are still men in this world. And we should not look to be a champion of all when all are champions in their way. We shall learn to live as equal.’

 

So a new war began; a war against inequality and not about ego.

 

 

 

Story Write Compilations Volume I Stories 16

 Ratpunzel...

 

Author's Note:

Never said that rats are bad for the home. There are some which are adorable. You don't believe me. Look to your friends and asked are all adorable. Not all, huh. Some are like rats too. See, it's the same at all if you would see them differently.

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Have you seen rats in your place? They are lovely creatures if you learn to appreciate them from an artistic view as you would of a falcon. They have a thick fur on them, normally dark gray as it allows them to blend in with the dark corners. They have these whiskers which allowed them to smell stuff they need for their diet. And the marvelous part of them is the long tail. It's sleek like a long whip wield by Batswoman, except she is feline and not mousy. Okay, rats are known to bring diseases as they moved in dirty areas, squireling through damp pipes or tunnels, and they carry one too many wrong occupants on their fur. So do dogs and cats, but we considered them domesticated so it's okay.

 

So here is my story of a rat named Ratpunzel.

Mama was a good mother and wife; she gave birth to a litter of them young pinkish young un’s. She nurtured them well and kept them safe in this dark recess of the house. Pa died in a trap some days back, so Mama had to double up her effort. And she did it; escaping man traps and cats; ugly black ones with white spots. On the day she saw her litter grew to an age where they can leave the litter, she saw one particular one. It was Ratpunzel; this rascally rat has the most beautiful tail, all straight and long. Mama was touched by her beauty, and she kept Ratpunzel at the litter. To her, this darling rat was her treasure to be looked at and held in the limelight of fame. She was teaching the little kiddo some nifty steps to start her basic dance moves. And so Ratpunzel lived in the same place called the litter for some time, with her Mama always there; feeding and taking care of her. She even combs the tail with the finest silky cloth so it will gleam in the dark shadow. And one day, poor Mama missed her cue to run across the room and was devoured by the black cat with white spots. Urghh... it was an ugly scene to describe.

 

But poor Ratpunzel knew not of it, as she had not left the litter since birth, and there were no scraps of newsprint to read. So she got hungry and she called out to Mama. It was by coincidence on that day, a prime dashing rat of the best breed of descent was strolling by. His nose picked up the scent of the new rat on the block. And he heard the sweet pleading voice of Ratpunzel for food. Dash; that's his name immediately rushed to the nearest food cache ( there were a few those days ), and he retrieves the biggest cheese he could find. Dash brought it to the litter but he found a small entrance to go in. And he was not that nimble or small to crawl through. So he called out to the hungry rat inside; ‘My name is Dash. I have cheese here; the finest in the house. How can I pass this to you?’

 

‘I will lower my tail and you leave it on it. Then I will slowly bring it in. And thank you.’ Sweet words to said in the moment of help, and so Dash did as he was told; pieces after pieces he leaves on the long tail that wind it back to the little through the small gap in the wall. Now, this went on for some time, Dash will come and said; ‘unwind your tail, and I will feed you’. Ratpunzel will do so, and the feeding went on. Okay, love was in the tunnel too. One day, Dash was getting impatient so he brought the ‘Tunnel Rats’. ‘Break it down so I can see my Ratpunzel’. And they did; these boys are good and old plaster came off like paper mache. And for the first time dash saw his love. She was beautiful with her long sleek tail, but she was alarmed. Dash is past his prime and wobbling on his hind legs. You see, when Dash first heard of Ratpunzel, he was just about to clear prime last moments, and you know time flows. But Dash was not to give up and he went on his nose saying; ‘if looks matters, would I had stayed so long? I did peek at you through the gap, and I saw how fat you were but I still love you.’

 

And so looks were cast aside and love prevails. And Dash never looked beyond the tail, and Rat of her cheese as long they are stale.

 

( If look counts, unmarried man and woman would be abundant. Thankfully love is blind. )

 

 

 

 

Weekend Special Short Tales California 2.2 Chapter 6

 

6.

On the day marked as the Festival of Fool is used to make small innocent jokes, the "farce", practiced especially by children in the joyous manner. Alike to Halloween, the festival was a fun way to address a small social imbalance, but this time in the spirit of cunning, joke and joy. However, the tradition runs much deeper.

The Feast of Fools was a major festival that by the rise of Christianity. It was included in the words of Paul, "God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise" (1 Corinthians 27).  The festival had come to include masks, rituals of inversion, and Community dancing. The celebrations included an outdoor procession, choral dancing, with the precentor or cantor carrying a ceremonial staff. Celebrations of the Feast of Fools involved the temporary elevation of young choristers to positions of liturgical authority, dancing, and special vestments.

The previous Archdeacons had tried to stop the festival but to no avail.  

“The festival will be allowed. They will need to be held. A good many of the people need the reprieve of fun and cheers. The festival will do that and it does harm us when they mimic the authorities in the light manner.”

So it was sanctioned then.

It was held for the last ten years at the Dome yard. It was the one place where the ancient items were stored and deemed ideal to hold the festival with the dances and songs that accompanied the festival.

Esmeralda was up early and had prepared the needed items for the festival. The children needed the masks and gowns. It was not the new stuff but the ones they had used and then stored for the annual affair. She sorted out the better ones for the younger kids while the elder ones get the broken or worn out ones. Once the children were settled she went to help with the food.

The Sarmale or Cabbage Rolls is made of minced meat mixed with spices, rice and onions, and then rolled up in sour (fermented) cabbage leaves and boiled for hours in the special sauce made of sauerkraut juice, tomato juice and other family ingredients.

There was the Mamaliga (Polenta) a side dish served with sour cream and Romanian cheese. The dish is made from corn flour boiled in water with a pinch of salt and a few drops of sunflower oil. It can mixed with the salty sheep cheese to be the ‘bulz’ like by the shepherds.

“Chey, you must take the Mici (Grilled Minced Meat Rolls).” Esmeralda heard the elder lady. The Mici is considered the snack food. It was minced pork and beef mixed with garlic, spices and salt. It’s juicy on the inside and crispy on the outside. Its served with mustard and bread.

Those were some of the offerings that the gypsy was bringing to the festival.

It was different for Captain Phoebus who had his hands full for the other preparations. During any events at the Dome, the Captain had to check all the security points. His duty was to the Archdeacon safety. He had failed to save the predecessor when the Archdeacon was killed by the sniper bullet at the balcony and then toppled over to smear his body on the yard. The investigation was carried out by the Captain Phoebus but the conclusion was killer not identified. It paved the successor, Claude Frollo to be Archdeacon.

The Captain was not failed on this Archdeacon.

“Very Reverend Sir, I would like to congratulate you on your ascension. I do believe you work for it.” The Captain was the last to give the handshake.

“You have been busy as I was told. You missed the speeches. Was it checking the perimeter?” The Captain had to smile at the statement by the new Archdeacon.

“Yes, I was. I had to go to the forest.” In actual fact, the Captain was there to dispose the rifle that he had used for the assassination. It was a good shot and a deadly one at six hundred yards from the tree branch. He had left the rifle on the branch and returned to destroy the rifle. He had to do it then before the others found out. The succession ceremony kept everyone at the Dome and the Captain did the frivolous deed.

Just then at the preparation, the Captain checked on the door entrance that was used by the gypsy. He tested the lock and relocked it. He turned and saw the droid who was the caretaker assistant.

“Unit, what is your designation again?”

“It’s E-05, Captain.” I replied with the note on the vid screen on my chest plate. 

“Your rank, unit? I did not ask for your name.” The Captain snapped out.

“Caretaker Assistant.” The text appeared on the vid.

“Make sure the entrance is secured.” The Captain gave the order. “I want the Dome cleaned especially the balcony area. The Archdeacon will be making his vid speech from there.”

It was the annual affair for the Archdeacon to make his speech there with City as the backdrop. I knew that as it was in my annual list of things to do. I had cleaned both balconies of the bird droppings and even sealed the cracks on the flooring.

There are two balconies seen from below. The lower one was ringed at the half way mark where the guests could use to look at the yard. The second one higher was at the upper level below the top where the ranking officers held their personal chamber and the Archdeacon’s one was the huge one.

Above at the top, there was not a balcony but the flat roofing with a small radius of ten feet where the communication antennas were housed. It was unseen from the yard. There was an external ladder to climb up which only the droids like me was allowed to go up. The area was seldom patronized ever since they moved the newer antennas to the upper balcony. I had been up there once on the order of the Caretaker and upon reaching it, my sensors picked up the beautiful sight there.

“It’s a beauty.” I registered that text in my program but I was unsure what it meant.

 

 

 

Trojan War Chapter 35

 

35.

The victory of Achilles was well received by King Menelaus at the hall at Archaeon. He was reported by Agamemnon.

“My king, the Frontier is crumbling and our combined fleet had routed them from their hideouts.” Agamemnon roared out. “Achilles' new ally gave us the needed boost to secure this victory.”

“Now we move onto the inner worlds of Troy. We will hurt them where the Trojans lived.” Agamemnon looked at the gathered.

“We will form three task forces to hit Troy,” Agamemnon called out. “I will lead the First Task; the Archaeon fleet of ten motherships, and twenty-five destroyers, fifty frigates, and a thousand stealth fighters.”

“The Second task force will be under Achilles with the Argos, Babylon, and the Macedonian. That is nine motherships, twenty destroyers, and forty frigates with over four thousand stealth fighters. The destruction of the Macedonian and the Argos frigates are highly regrettable to all of us.”

“The Third Task will be under Odysseus with the Dardanes, Cretan, Phoenicia, Carthaginian, Parthians, and Barbicans. That fleet is twelve motherships, eight destroyers, sixty frigates, and five thousand stealth fighters. They will be assisted by the Telamon fleet.

The fleet of Telamon under the command of the sons of Telamon, Ajax the Great, and Ajax the Lesser. The fleet held twelve frigates; small in number but each of the frigates held an arsenal of weapon that can destroy the destroyer or the mothership. The Ajax frigates were built for speed and stealth.

“We are …” Agamemnon was interrupted by another Macedonian leader.

“Ajax the Great is a Trojan by birth and how could he be trusted?”

“Ajax is by birth but raised by us. He had sworn loyalty to us. He will not renegade on that as his oath is also mine.” Odysseus replied. 

“Why are we left out in the leadership? I thought we were allies and should there not be some of us to lead?” The one that spoke was named Diomedes; a younger leader of the Archaeon. His rebuke was soon supported by the others, not of Archaeon.

“Diomedes… I am impressed that you had that concern, if I may say was a concern.” Achilles steps forth to reply to the younger. “I can see a brother of mine in arm, you still held the weapon once gifted to you by Hephaestus for the bravery you displayed when we last duel.”

“An unworthy gift compared to you golden armor,” Diomedes replied. He held the cuirass and shield made by God with the crest of the boar on the front.

“Nevertheless, an equal in strength.” Achilles looked at Diomedes. “The leadership of the Archaeon on the task force was due to the call by our King. It’s our pride that will be called on if we lose. Will you share it with me on my task force?”

“I will.” It was how Diomedes came to the aid of Achilles.

“I will join you, Odysseus.” It was another leader of Archaeon who called out. Odysseus looked to the one who volunteered and then declined.

“Palamedes, you will stay with Agamemnon. My command is adequate.” It was a blunt refusal by Odysseus who was still upset with Palamedes to place his son then in danger.

“It’s agreed then.” Agamemnon had cut in to avoid any more disputes. He had seen Palamedes walked out of the Hall in anger. He appreciated that Palamedes was his aide but the latter was at times impulsive and brash.

“We take on Troy Three to Five first,” Agamemnon called out. He was later met by Achilles to speak in private.

“Agamemnon, on Troy Five is one named Chryseis, who is from the noble family of Troy. She is also the intern of Apollo.” Achilles said.

“And what is your concern for Chryseis?” Agamemnon asked of the other.

“Chryseis is a friend. Do not harm her.” Achilles asked.

“I will do what I can.” Agamemnon then walked off.

At that moment, Hector was reviewing the Trojan’s defenses. The five inner worlds were swamped by the Outposts survivals and of late, the Frontier. Most of the latter were scattered to the far-flung moons or planets but a sizeable have reached Troy for refuge.

“The core defense is ready at Troy One to Three but Four and Five are not. We do not have enough metals to distribute there. At best, Troy Three has partial strength.” Hector reported to King Priam.

“I am moving half the fleet with two Mothership, five destroyers, and ten frigates to cover those two worlds and a thousand stealth fighters,” Hector added on.

“So we are down to two Mothership, no destroyers, and  four frigates here without the Chariots..” King Priam gave out his thoughts. “And why leave three thousand stealth fighters here? And where are my Chariots?”

“The stealth fighters can be launched from the surface. We have designed gates in the shields to allow them to fly through. The stealth fighters can take down the frigates, and we have some surprises for them too.” Hector replied.

“As for Chariots, I have given them new tasks.” The King Chariots are a six destroyer fleet which was the latest in the design of the Trojan’s army. ”They hold the new metal in their hull. Polydorus will be my hidden ace.”

“I hoped you are right. Any considerations from the Gods or Goddess of the Olympians?” King Priam asked.

“I am still working on it,” Hector replied. He had not made the needed advantage there with his plea to Ares rejected, Hephaestus not replying and he was trying the others.

“Do you need my assistance?” King Priam asked.

“No, I am fine.” Hector did not hide his emotion. “I will get them to assist. Right now, I will battle the war as planned.”

Nothing is ever planned.

 

Story Write Compilations Volume I Stories 15

 Elf and Santa

 

Author's Note:

Not many people appreciate the Elves except maybe old man Santa. But he does not talk about it every time we meet except that one year. He told me of this tale to share with you on the people behind the scene.

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We all know of the elves who helped the shoemaker in his workshop or the ones who pack the Christmas presents for Santa. Or do we only know of the green one in the mall helping bring out the presents during pre-Christmas? Well, this story is about one elf.......

 

So our story began.

 

The elf limped into the back alley where the single bulb light lits the doorway with the sign ‘Employees’ Only’. She stood there on one left leg and the right one across her left knee.

 

‘Oh, it hurts.’ She took her green pointed shoes off her right foot. She brought it nearer to the lighting so she can see what is causing her pain.

 

It's not the bunion on her toe ( she got that removed last week ) and it's not the blistering at the back of her ankle ( she got the soothing ointment for that two days ago ) but her uncomfortable shoes. Its soles are worn off and the threading on the seams is coming off. If she would wriggle her toes, she is sure the front flap will come off like the crocodile mouth. Once her cousin has one of her older shoes with that front flap exposed; he went around holding it like the crocodile on Captain Hook’s adventures.

 

‘Tick Tock! Here I come. Oh! Run the Captain from my jaw. Tick Tock!’

 

It may be amusing for the kids and the elderly but not to her. These are her working shoes and she needs them on her eight-hour shift of running to the back to get the correct presents and passing them on to the bearded man in the Santa suit. She wondered which is bad; his laughs or his impatience for the presents.

 

She really can't blame him but he’s got strings of kids lining up to see him and confess they are of good behavior to him. Half of those brats will lie anything to get their presents.

 

And getting four dollars an hour does not help me much but it's money for the coming festivals.

 

I wished they would supply us new uniforms with shoes each year but the management said; come with your own and these are the specs and color code.

 

But I can't afford a new pair of shoes let alone a new uniform set.

 

She sighs in despair to hours of painful heels.

 

‘Let me see them. I can help you repair them.’

 

She looked at the fat bearded old man wearing three layers of ragged tatters on his body, but he carries a cobbler box. She hands him the shoe, and then decided to ask him; ‘how much?’

 

‘Oh, a piece of kindness will do.’

 

‘Hey, hold on there. I am a decent elf and not one of those you see late at night.’ I snatched back my shoe but the old man smiled.

 

‘Nor am I any cobbler but the Cobbler. I don’t do all shoes but only elves shoes. My kindness is a cup of hot chocolate or coffee will do fine, my dear.’

 

So the elf passed back her shoe to him and she walked in the back through the door to the pantry. She closed the door on the old cobbler outside to the falling snows and cold air. She saw in the pantry the ingredient of the hot chocolate drink, and she proceeded to make a cup for the cobbler.

 

She took the hot cup of chocolate to the alley and saw her shoe at the doorway with a note. It's not a perfect fix but it's wearable.

 

‘Elf, your shoe is done. It just needed some threads and a needle and your skills. If you ever want to come back to the workshop, just wait for me at the top of the Charity House and looked north. I will be passing by there on Christmas Eve. Love, Santa.’

 

And below the message is also written this line; ‘ P.S. I am not as good as you in repairing the shoe, but I learned from your mum. We all need you back to help with backlogs of repairs of elves' shoes. She has forgiven you for leaving her last Christmas. She still loves you. And I apologize to you as I did not mean to blame you for the broken toys. It was only later I found out it's the Imp who did it. It was one of my bad days, and I just lost it. It's not like me to be that, and I sincerely want you back. Please do consider. ’

 

The little nimble green elf picked up her shoe and her eyes were close to tears. She loved her job as the shoemaker for elves, and not as a present packer.

 

‘Hey, Elf. Your break time is over. The kids are waiting.....’

 

‘Coming... Santa.’ She put on her shoes and turned to go into the store. But before she went in, she said to herself; ‘ I will be back soon, mum. And I forgive you, Santa. Love you both.’

 

Somewhere up there on the northern skies, a fat man smiles at himself. He feels joyous again that his favorite elf is coming home. He has got her a present; the cobbler box he carried when he went to see her that evening. He made himself a new resolution; never to jump the ‘sleigh’ when it comes to blaming others.

 

 

 

Story Write Compilations Volume I Stories 14

 Redemption Islanders

 

Author's Note:

This is the story of redemption in life and what better way to show it when one is marooned on an island. Well, unlike Robinson and Tom Hanks, you have someone real to reflect on.

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My name is Godwin, and I am here on an island with three other survivors of the plane crash. There were five of us but she died. She was our foster mum and the pilot to that light plane. So here are four teens learning to stay in a neighborhood the size of ten blocks of apartments; height, width, and length. What was to be a joy ride into the ocean and turned out to be a one-way ticket here. The weather did not help as we were pushed off course by many miles as Mum said. So we are stranded from the last navigational position for any rescue. We have been here for one month now and she taught us some basics survival skills like how to fish and find fruits plus where and who to avoid. The latter was more apparent after she died.

 

We could not get on to each other list of family qualities so we called it quits. Abel, the first went off to the north, while Grace the lady in the eternal quest for her beau went south, and my real brother Marny went east saying I am to be blamed for the family breakup. I could be as I asked them to elect a leader so that we can be united. It's not that I crave the position, although I am the eldest I thought they may want to elect one of us to lead regardless of age. In return, I was to be the villain in the oncoming argument and disputes between them. My biggest letdown was Marny who accuses me of avoiding responsibility back at home. I feigned sickness to do things that Mum asked. I tried to explain but no one wants to listen, so they went separate ways.

 

It's been a week now since they left for their corners, and I am sitting here now in front of Mum’s final resting home that evening. I could not help it as I needed someone to talk to and seek comfort for my loneliness. I have been counting the days and today was to be Christmas Eve, where we normally are sitting in the living hall wrapping up presents and sharing our fruit punch ingredients. Mum will be in the kitchen preparing her things for tomorrow. Every Christmas eve, Grace will look at her watch for the doorbell to ring, while Abel will be counting the numbers to his college admission date. Marny will be just himself, ever grateful that he has another day to go through as he is suffering from a rare disease. As for me, I have no date’ coming but to see the family lived on with our lovely foster mother who took us in five years ago. But in five days after her death, I split the family into individuals like she never existed.

 

I could be the devil in disguise here; the one who never had any aim in my life, not like the rest. They had reasons to live, but for me, it is just to be here to continue onto another day. No real reasons but just plod on with one more morning till night. Yes, I do feign all the excuses to raise my finger to do some work at times, but in all honest thoughts, I was just plain lazy. I am the sloth in the house; I envy them all as they jumped to every task mum gives them; I am angry at Grace as she is always with someone; I dislike Abel as he is the football star, it was my desire of lust to be like him; I disliked Marny as he is Mum’s pride; yes, I am the greed for all their emotions, but the biggest sin I have is the need to consume it all from them. I am the glutton of it all. Now I have regretted all my sins.

 

I truly seek their love and care for me. I have been selfish but it's inherent in all of us to be one. But some of us do know how to control it, but I did not. I wanted it all. That was why I called the election of the leader. I wanted their acknowledgment that I am the leader, but by their consent and not by my age. I am sorry, Mum. You took me into your heart many times, to tell me of my weakness, and yet I failed you. Above all, I failed you when you expected me to carry on your legacy. I am a failure to you and them. Show me the way to redeem myself to them, please. I need your guidance one more time. It was then I saw the sign. It's a shooting star on the horizon. It streak across the sky in its journey to some place of its destination. She told me that story before. I think I know what is to be done. It's my own doing, and it's mine to undo it. Its time for the redemption of my sins.

 

If the mountain does not come to David, then David has to go to the Mountain. I said those words aloud to myself. And I got my replies; all three of them were there standing at the edge of the clearing. They said that the mountain will never move to David but it can make itself seen to David for David to come to it again when David is ready. I saw tonight my mountain of family members and I rejoiced with them in knowing they are always there for me to see. Marny asked me did I see Mum tonight. I said I did as she is always peeking by the kitchen door to see if we are united as one family on this day for the last five years. And today is no exception. When we finally left the island after six months, I named the place “Redemption” as its where I finally redeem my sins.

 

Today, I tell this story to my congregation every Christmas Eve. I end my sermon with this line; “In whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.” Colossians 1:14 ESV and the singing of "Amazing Grace".

 

God bless you all. And Merry Christmas.

Arthur II Book II Chapter 29

 

29.

 

Lancelot stood below the shade of the hut looking at Guinevere who was talking to her friends. They have arrived at the coastal village which was the home of Lady Penelope, the mother to Guinevere. The young lady was in a better mood compared to the day when she was rescued. They have ridden pressed on by Guinevere to get home fast. They have reached dusk and were given shelter in the hut by the family known to Guinevere. Lancelot offered to rest in the shed outside. He had woken up and saw the lady was visiting her friends. He had hastily dressed and then looked for her.

“Joanne, you have grown.” Guinevere hugged her old friend who was with a child.

“It’s Brian’s. We got hitched in last season.” Joanne replied. She was in her advanced stage then with her unborn child.

“I would have not known then. I thought you were with Liam.”

“He left for South and was not seen for three seasons and was lonely. I …” Joanne blushed.

“You naughty lady.” Guinevere teased her friend. The two then marched off to the coastal area swinging their arms. Lancelot felt embarrassed to spy on the ladies.

“You are new here?” Lancelot turned to see who had spoken to him. It was an elderly man in the worn-out tunic and with the clutch for his bad left leg.

“I am. I arrived with the lady…… Guinevere the night before.” Lancelot replied.

“Guinevere? That lady.” The elderly man looked at the two ladies a distance away. “I know her.”

“You know Guinevere?” Lancelot was curious. “May I have your name, Sir?”

“Sir? I am no Sir. Not for a long time. My name is Issacs of Moor. I am the Granduncle of Lady Guinevere.” The man said.

“Guinevere is the daughter of Lady Penelope, my niece. She was with the miscreant Utter Pendragon. He left her to go south.” Issacs spoke then. “The ladies here have a saying that if a man goes south, he was not coming back.”

“Guinevere the daughter of Utter?” Lancelot was alarmed at that. “I would have not …”

“Penelope had died shortly after giving birth to her. Her lover was given the signs that her death was due to the girl. Guinevere was deemed a bad omen and Utter rode off without a look to his daughter.”

“Where did Utter go?” Lancelot feigned ignorance.

“South! Did I not say that?” The elderly man was getting agitated. “He rode off and found his glory there. He joined an army I was told. He made his name and fortune before he left for the continent.”

“What happened to Guinevere here?”

“She was fine. She has a Godmother who was my sister. Igraine took care of her with the coins sent. Igraine was married to a Lord but we never got his name.  She returned here to Guinevere but the seafarers came. They …”

“The bearded ones with the dragon ships?”

“Yes, they used to raid us during the harvest seasons and take our food. We were too few to fight them. That year they took the ladies including Guinevere. I fought but was defeated. We did not see her for many seasons till now.” Issacs looked at the Lancelot. “I had never got your name.”

“Lan…. Lawnslot.  I met Guinevere on the trail and brought her here. It’s a wildland out there.”

“I heard that too from the wayfarers. They also told us of the new King. Arthur is his name and he was winning the war against the Anglo Saxon. Have you met him?”

“Arthur? I doubt it. I am a wayfarer myself with no name and home.” Lancelot replied.

“Do not doubt the destiny of the two of you. You met and brought her home. You are a nobleman. You may also find the village here is peaceful. With the news of Arthur’s battles, we share the thought that he will be here soon. It will be then that we bring up our woes of the sea raiders. Arthur will protect us as he did for the others on the Anglo Saxons. The village could do with you as I did before. You can be the village protector. And Guinevere will stand by your side.”

Lancelot was to speak when he heard the call for help. It was the ladies. He rushed off towards them. He saw Guinevere on the ground holding her right leg. Joanne was seen running with her heavy belly towards the village. She saw Lancelot and told him that Guinevere was bitten by an adder snake.

Lancelot has handled those bites before as the Ghost. Adders are common on the land and will only attack if threatened in which most cases were easily spooked when the people stepped into their paths or nests.

“Guinevere, where is the bite?” Lancelot crouched next to the lady.

“My right leg.” Guinevere showed her leg to Lancelot. She had not hesitated to pull the hem higher to show him the bite wound at the shin. Lancelot bent down to look at the wound. It looked like a shallow bite from the blood. The adder could have been scared off before its fangs went in deeper.

“I may need to suck the blood out,” Lancelot told her and without waiting for the reply, he sank his mouth over her wound. He sucked hard at it and then spat the blood out. He did it a few times to get the poison out.

Guinevere still in pain was taken in by the gallant knight who had risked his life for her’. She felt his teeth biting at her shin, with the left hand gripping her knee. It was painful but there was a sense of pleasure to it. She laid back on the ground while the knight continued on his treatment.

“We can aid her now.” It was the village healer and Lancelot stood up. He looked to the exposed leg from the upper thigh to the toes. It was not the first time he had seen such a pose but with Guinevere, he felt differently. He was aroused and felt the embarrassment to be standing there.

 “Are you well, Sir” It was Issacs the Elderly who asked. “The healer has the potions for the adder bite.”

“I am fine. Please excuse me.” Lancelot stepped further away. He walked to the sea and let the waves reached to his knees. He was unsure of the events that were in his mind. He looked back to Guinevere who was then carried by the villagers back to the village.

Back at Mount Badon, Arthur stood at the foot of the hill. He was abandoning Mount Badon to its history. He was questioned by Lamorak.

“Prime…. I meant Arthur. Why won’t we station some men here? Like at Gurnion. It was a …”

“A hard victory and we will not man the last bastion of the enemy. We will let the forest reclaimed its right back.” Arthur looked to the clearing where he had marked for the burial of the fallen; his men and Anglo Saxons. They were buried in two plots so that they won’t fight in the other dimension. He started with four hundred strong Legionnaires, two hundred Welsh arms and the hundred recruited Sarmartians under Aubin. Nearly a thousand strong against the two thousand or more Anglo Saxons.

Arthur buried fifty legionnaires, two hundred Welsh and half the Sarmatians. He did not count the Anglo Saxons but they were many. The wounded and surrendered were sent off without their weapons back to their homes; where ever it was then. He did not include the local warriors because the dead and wounded were taken back by the others. It seems that they will bury them in their local plots.

“Three hundred of our knights died here.” Arthur sighed.

“Aye, and another two hundred wounded but they will fight when they have recovered,” Lamorak added to the other’s count.

“We will return to Camelot. I have to do more there.” Arthur called out the command. He was anxious to go back and oversee his castle. He then turned to look for the druid.

“Druid, I need to talk to you,” Arthur called the druid who was standing a distance away. The druid had turned to leave but Arthur's call was not to be ignored.

“Stop that druid. I want to talk to you…. now.”

A short while later at a clearing coincidentally next to the burial plot of the Anglo Saxons.

“Were you ignoring me, druid?”

“No, Arthur. I was not. I was …” Merlin explained his previous action.

“Don’t patronize me, Druid. I am asking on Guinevere. Where is Lancelot?”

Lancelot was still in the village although he moved to his tent outside the village. It has been some days and all that time he avoided the lady. He was afraid to be near her. He stoked the embers in the fire to stir the fire up. He had caught a rabbit in the snare and after having skinned it was to place it over the fire. 

“I have not seen you in the village. They told me that you have gone hunting.” Lancelot turned to look and saw the lady. He was dressed in a tunic and without his sandals. He had removed his armor and Arondight at the side.

“Why are you here?” Lancelot asked.

“Why? I do live here.” Guinevere was surprised at the question. “Maybe I did come at the wrong time?”

“No, Guinevere…… I meant my Lady Guinevere. I did not mean to be rude.” Lancelot looked at her. “I was ….. tired from my …. hunting.”

“I was …. Sorry if I intruded.” Guinevere replied. “I was to see you on the invite to come for Joanne’s celebration of her child. She gave birth to a boy. They are having a feast tonight.”

“I will…. Join. I will bring the meat.” Lancelot smiled.

“And one other matter, Sir ….. Lancelot? I was to ask if we can go back to Camelot. I want to see Lady Igraine.”

“I have to…” Guinevere added on.

“We can leave tomorrow,” Lancelot said.

“Maybe not so soon. We can do it in two days. I need to say my goodbyes.” It was then Guinevere turned and leaves. Lancelot was all alone once more.

Later at the dance, Guinevere had pulled Lancelot into the dance then. The Ceilidh dances are easy to learn and often look more difficult than they are. Learning them is easy because the musicians and fellow dancers are always happy to help beginners learn the steps. 

But not knights who only knew how to fight.

“You got the steps mixed.” Guinevere laughed. “And your arms are too stiff. Let me help you.”

The touch of the lady’s hands was overlaying in the feelings. She gripped him by her fingers and led him on the moves. He felt his clumsiness then and twice he fell at her feet. That roared the others to mock them.

“He proposes and she….” The men sang.

“She said yes.” The ladies replied.

It was merriment and the feast went on till dawn.