THE CROSSROADS OF NO RETURN
As is often the case these days, my brain does the wandering, and, eventually, I dabble in the words appearing inside my head. For some unknown reason, my silent voice was very insistent this time. I had to write a tale using as many metaphors as possible.
Finding a title? That was easy.
I called it - Metaphor Overkill.
I finished my tale but it didn’t flow very well and the title wasn't suitable anymore. The remedy? I gradually reduced the number of metaphors as the tale progressed, changed the title, and here is the first part of, potentially, a story in three parts.
The Crossroads of No return by Rick Haynes
“Wherever you go, there you are, or are you?” A brief flash of anger vanished quicker than I could blink but it didn’t last long. “You may be as gentle as a lamb, Mary, yet, do you know where you are going?”
Her lips remained closed. And not for the first time, I wondered whether I was talking to a witch.
“I remember the time we first met. Your mouth opened and your body shook when you tried to answer my comment about your beautiful eyes. Like sapphires in an ocean of darkness, I told you. Your perfectly shaped lips had stayed closed, even though I had pushed for an answer. But still, your brief smile told me to be patient. Was it worth the wait?”
“You are strong, like an ox, yet as slippery as the eels in the river. And thus, I say this. I do not trust you, king-slayer.”
“Now you are speaking like me, I will play out the game for one so wise as it may remove the mask of hatred from your exquisite face.”
“Flattery from a man as cunning as a fox is no flattery at all. Every village within ten miles of us is sending armed men to capture the coward who killed the king. And here you are, trying to seduce me. If you think I am the fatted calf, ready to be devoured, then think again, Harold.”
“My lady, Mary, I am honoured you remembered my name but your belief in fighting men coming to kill me is, alas, flawed. In reality, there are many of your kin in agreement with my actions. Your cruel husband, King Edward, has burnt too many villagers at the stake for them to rebel before. Watching the flames licking around the feet of the men, women and children who dared to displease him, would scar anyone forced to witness such a vile event. The screams of the youngsters even now ensure their sleep is restless.”
“He was my father.”
“Your voice is now as quiet as a mouse for you cannot turn a blind eye to his cruelty. Try to think of his last victims - David and Anne, the twins. With so little food their skin was stretched, their bones sticking out as if they were already dead. Do you remember what they did? No? I’ll remind you. In the stables, there are horses and horses eat oats. The starving children crept in and pushed a few handfuls of oats into an old linen bag. And they left as quietly as they had entered. But one of the stable boys had seen their departure. And you know what happened next, don’t you?”
“Yes, I know, but you are wrong. The stable boy was attacked and sadly, he perished. Those evil twins killed him as they escaped. Bad apples are always disposed of.”
“You are at a crossroads, Lady Mary. You can believe the lies that sprouted from the mouth of your, now dead father, or you can open those lovely eyes to the truth. King Edward didn’t only order the twins be put to death. No! That wasn’t enough to sate his sadistic desires. He had the stable boy, Charlie, murdered. Why? Because he didn’t stop them from stealing. And how could he when he was exercising your husbands’ favourite horses in a nearby paddock. Fear is a vicious beast as it feeds on worry and sickness, uncertainty and deliberation. Your father unleashed the beast as often as he pulled on his leggings in the morning.”
“You will never make me believe you, Harold, for I know my father would never do such evil things. I will honour his memory as any true daughter would.”
“The bigger the fool the harder the lesson. Why don’t you ask someone else? Your servant, Edwina, for example. I’ll come back in an hour.”
“Have you reached a decision, lovely lady?”
“I would never believe I’d say these words to you, Harold. Even now, I choke as I speak for you were right. Mary confirmed your story but I will not succumb to your carnal desires, nor give up my right of ruling over my people.”
“Then I must bid you farewell, my lady. But first I will give you a piece of advice. As the sole heir to the throne, you are now at a crossroads. March straight on and my men will laugh at your pathetically equipped army. Turn to the left or right and the head of each clan will demand your hand in marriage as payment for their protection before stealing everything of value. No matter what you believe, warriors from your friendly villages are not coming to assist you.”
“Why should I believe a man like you?”
“Because my word is true and I have offered them more silver than you could, Lady Mary.”
“And what do you offer me, killer?”
“I offer you nothing more than cold feet in a cosy bed, protection from the clans, and justice for your people as well as mine. The fog of war will never rear its ugly head here. Your father had a heart of stone but I do not. Look at your people with their heads hanging low, their eyes looking down at the ground beneath their feet. Fear is their constant companion, hunger their unwanted friend.”
“Words are cheap these days.”
“Yes, they are, as is flogging a dead horse, Lady Mary. And soon my mouth will stay closed for you have so little time to reach a decision about your future and those of your clan.”
“I’ll think about your proposal, slayer. I’ll give you my answer in the morning.”
“I doubt we’ll meet again for your tomorrow will never come if you delay any longer. Goodbye, and good luck, Lady Mary.”
I pulled my leather mask around my face and barely heard her shout in the wind as I rode away, but without thinking, I reined in my sway-backed mare and turned my head in her direction. She was frantically waving and I pondered.
Would it be worth all the pain for defending her people and listening to her nagging? But did I want another cold bed at night? Would she demand too much from me and my people? Yet, was her loveliness worth more than the insanity of seeing her in another’s arms?
My eyes took in her beauty, my heart pounded in my chest, and my brain told me to ride away.
But what should I do?
As usual, my heart ruled my head. I patted the flanks of my chestnut gelding, gently pulled on the reins and slowly trotted back to where Mary stood. Trying to wipe away her tears had failed for the dark lines from her eyes told me everything I needed to know. No matter how proud and haughty she was, Mary was terrified.
Dismounting, I held out my hand and she took it. Her body was shaking, her eyes wide open and her voice was croaky.
“Thank you… I’m not sure what else to say.”
I bet that’s the first time she’d ever been lost for words, I said to myself. “You must gather all the villagers together as they will need to listen to my words.”
I followed behind her, slowly leading, Thunder, my horse. I hoped he would continue to be in a good mood, as so far, he hadn’t tried to kick me today. Already, villagers were waiting outside the massive barn. The farrier held a large pitchfork in his hands, and the mason had both hands on a mighty hammer. I ignored them and continued on my way to the small square. As Mary had already sent a young boy with a message for her clan to meet in the square, I could already see a crowd gathering. I ignored the insults as I lowered a bucket into the well. Once full, I pulled it up and Thunder immediately quenched his thirst. He needed something to eat and I asked for some oats. No one moved but after Mary nodded her acceptance and a bag full of his favourite food appeared, I knew he’d be happy for a while.
More and more people arrived. I started counting but soon gave up. With so many evil eyes looking in my direction, I guessed they were as frosty as their village name. Coldstone wasn't a friendly place.
Mary was standing at the edge of a circle of villagers. With one hand on her left hip, a scowl that would stop a charging horse, and another hand resting on the shoulder of a small girl, I realised how much power and love she wielded. It was time for me to make a speech and I knew, I’d better get it right.
“These are the words of your beautiful, Lady Mary. ‘You are as slippery as an eel and as cunning as a fox.’ And yes, I agree. I confess to my sins. But to survive the likely onslaught, you will need all of my devious ability to save you from annihilation. One of you must ride out to send a message to my clan. I will order as many warriors as possible to join you in the defence of your village.”
“Why are you here? Do you have something to gain?” The mason broke from the circle as he spoke, his mighty hammer like a small piece of metal in his huge hands. He was stocky, almost as wide as the barn door. With two front teeth missing his scowl would frighten anyone. Coming closer with every step, I flinched. It was time to be bold.
“What is your name?”
“They call me Stiff Neck, not that you need to know, killer.”
I ignored the barbed comment. “Have you ever loved someone, Stiff Neck?”
“What rubbish is this? I’ve had …”
“Shut up and listen, you fool. I loved your precious Mary from the moment I set eyes on her. And when you love someone, you will do anything to save them. And that’s why I’m here. To save Mary and to save her people which includes you, mason Stiff Neck.”
Before he could say more the farrier walked towards me, this time without brandishing his pitchfork. Dressed in a long leather apron and soiled tattered trews he was every inch a giant of a man as I had to look up a long way. “My name is James. I’ve been looking at my Lady Mary’s face. She stands proud, yet full of sorrow as I see little hope on her face. I don’t know what bargain has been struck between you two but I do believe your words. If we delay, our village cannot survive. I will ride my fastest stallion to take the message to your clan as long as you swear I will be safe.”
I held out my hand and looked him in the eyes. There was no give. We gripped as warriors do - wrist to wrist – and we smiled. The time had come to brace ourselves for the inevitable attack on Coldstone. Unlike the name, we would prepare a very warm welcome for any unwanted visitors.
“Death sits on your shoulder like an old friend. Am I right, James, the farrier?”
I saw the grimace on his face and guessed pain had been with him for a long time. He raised his head and nodded.
“Now we understand each other this is what you must do. When you arrive in Pelonia, ask for Alwynn. Tell him what is happening here and urge him to make haste with as many warriors as he can. He will shout and spit in your eye. It is his way. Ignore his bluster, look at his face, wait until he pauses for breath and give him this message. ‘Harold sends you greetings. He says you have a face like an old ram and you stink worse than cow shit.’ He knows these words and will react quickly. Ride hard, James, and if your horse is too weary for the return journey, demand one as fast as your own.”
“I will leave now.”
As James saddled his horse and rode off, Stiff Neck approached. “What do you want big man?”
“Trust hasn’t shown its face in Coldstone for a long time so maybe I was wrong about you. As James believes in you, so will I.”
“Good.” I slapped him on the back and hurt my hand. He was as hard as a bull I’d once been hit by.
As Mary hadn’t said a word, I called her over.
“How many people live in Coldstone?” I was sharp but I needed answers.
“We have fifty four men, seventy one women and thirty one children under the age of fifteen.”
Stiff Neck answered. “Sorry, Lady Mary. May I answer?”
“Yes, of course.” She took a step back. Her face was flushed and her body trembled with fear.
I put my arm on her shoulder and looked into her red rimmed eyes full of unshed tears. “When I said, I loved you, I meant every word. You may not love me but I hope over time you will see I’m not the monster you think I am. For now, I must find a way to protect you and everyone in Coldstone.”
Turning away to face Stiff Neck, I couldn’t get Marys’ pained face out of my mind. “What do we have?”
“In the barn, we have ten spears, but some are rusty. Every man has a sword for King Edward insisted we must be armed should raiders attack. I guess about forty men can wield a sword with purpose, including James and myself. Bana, and his brother, Nossa are superb bowmen. Also, most of the women and some of the boys and girls are proficient with hunting bows. Without fresh meat, we would starve so every day villagers venture into the woods to trap or shoot game.”
“You’re not as stupid as you look, big man.”
A flash of mischief washed over his face as Stiff Neck quickly closed the gap between us, picked me up in a bear hug and dumped me in the water trough. After he stopped laughing along with all the other villagers, he gave me his hand and pulled me out.
“You’ll do, Stiff Neck. I’m so glad I have a change of clothes in my pack.” With all eyes upon me, my smile was wide, and I knew these people, my people, were now on my side. No matter what, they had to survive. Much to the amusement of the villagers, especially the ladies, I stripped off, walked to my trusty steed and pulled on fresh clothes. Unfortunately, the laughter ceased in a flash.
I heard the sound of running feet and the yells of frightened villagers as a young boy ran into the square. It took precious seconds for him to get his breath back.
“What is it, Tomas? What scares you, boy?” A grey bearded man was holding Tomas upright.
Tomas pointed behind him and screamed out.
“I saw four men on horses. They have swords. They asked the way to Coldstone. I sent them the wrong way. Are they coming to kill us?
Look out for Part 3 next week.