Because this is a bad movie with a bad script, and the producers knew female skin would sell.
Don’t forget the critiquing guidelines. All you have to do is post a comment about the submission below. Don’t feel like you have to critique the whole piece. Even a short comment on one aspect can be helpful.
This post will stay active indefinitely, so you can come back and add comments at any time. If you are the writer who is being critiqued, you should subscribe to this post so you can be notified when any comments are added.
All the King’s Daughers, Ch. 1 continued – by Ashley
The bishop, the grand general, and the chamberlain (and assorted aides) woke Konrad up bright and early the next morning. He tried not to grumble, for they were there to make sure he was fit to be king, physically and mentally. He did his best to be polite, to listen, to answer all their questions correctly. One could yell at servants, but not officials.
During the interview, the bishop made it clear that he felt Konrad was unfit morally, making allusions to the sanctity of marriage and all that. But in the end he agreed that Konrad was the man chosen by God, for if he wasn’t, God wouldn’t have let him live, for men couldn’t just choose a ruler. The three men had many documents for him to sign, most of which would be finalized by the king’s privy council once they returned to the capital. What a lot of rubbish papers were. Swords he understood, but pens hardly a jot.
Konrad left the meeting irritated, tired, and hungry. “Breakfast, d—n it! And prepare my horse!” he screamed at his squire. The lad almost fell backwards as he scrambled away. Three other servants ran after him.
Konrad’s irritation shrank, just a little.
Breakfast was good, and the ale even better. Now, to get home and start planning the coronation…
Dressed and ready, Konrad was about to mount his horse when one of his knights approached, accompanied by a two figures, a tall, straight man and a limping man with a bandage across his head. They both bowed. “My lord, this man begs an audience.” He nodded at the limping man.
Konrad cast a glance over the second man and then nodded. “Yes, my man, what is it?”
“My son, lord. I asked all over about him and this knight says he saw my boy Tobias in the same grave as your brothers.”
The stupid boy’s father. Konrad’s face heated. “Yes, he is in the same grave as my elder brothers.”
“I was told, my lord, that his death was not by the hand of our enemy.”
Konrad waved his hand for the man to come closer. He led the peasant out of earshot, though the other peasant, a burly fellow, came close behind. “And whom did they, whoever they are, say had a hand in his death?”
The man was grim but angry-looking— and a little afraid. “My lord, they say it was your hand.”
Outed at last. Well, Konner had always said the piper always came calling. There was nothing for it, even if he could just have the man killed—but who wanted to start a reign with that? And the burly peasant and one of his own men, too. Witnesses. “I am afraid it was, and I am heartily sorry. Unfortunately, in the fog of war, it is not always possible to keep from hurting your own soldiers by accident. I was attempting to loose an arrow at an enemy and the lad was thrown into the path of my shot. I am genuinely sorry for your loss. But rest assured, he rests by my brothers and I will have the incident recorded for all to hear of the bravery of your son in the battle.” Bravery, or foolishness, to pray with the enemy in the midst of a battle!
“Beg pardon, my lord, but proud as I am, that will not compensate for his loss. I am a freeman, lord, not a serf. Wulfgar. My family has been free since the time of the Ancestors. The records lie in the royal accounting already. And Tobias is—“ here the man bowed his head—“was, a chaplain’s assistant.”
Konrad chewed on his lip and stared at the man. What did he want? Money? No taxes? The treasury would be empty if he compensated for every lost soldier.
An idea came to him, as if God had planted the idea into his mind. He removed his glove and pulled off one of his rings, silver with a wolf carved from emerald. He handed it down to the man. “Wulfgar Freeman, I give this to you as a wergild for your son. I owe you a debt of blood. When the time is right, I believe God will bring us together again and I will repay it. Take this purse also and use it according to your family’s need.”
Wulfgar blinked twice before accepting the two items. “I thank you, Your Majesty. May God guide you all the days of your life.” He bowed as best he could, turned, and left.
Konrad shook his head. He had a bad feeling he would see this man again. Though hopefully not too soon…
Categories: Critique Group