‘Forgive me questioning your wisdom sire,’ said the Knight, ‘but I am unassured of our readiness for battle’
‘We need to speak privately husband’ said the Queen. The King’s concerned advisors shuffled back and retired.
His mind unchanged, the army assembled atop a hill. A thousand pawns stood in nervous anticipation; scores of cavalrymen sat astride spirited steeds. The Bishop made the sign of the cross as the king lowered his flag. A rook squawked as the troops advanced.
Despite a hundred loyal souls perishing the fray was won.
Later at Court, a triumphant King raised his goblet, stuck out his tongue and shouted ‘Told you so!’
Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle. The photo was provided by Jeff Arnold