A Kingdom Lost

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Abstract

the newly arrived prisoners. Sigmund's milk-clouded gaze sought Edgar’s in their gloomy corner. “What’s happening, boy?” “They’re killing a king,” he said, used now to acting as the old man’s eyes. The victors roared. “He dies well?” His father’s head thudded to the rushes. “On his knees and in chains.” Sigmund spat. “Then he is no king.” Edgar sliced meat for the stew with the knife Sigmund passed him, his movements restrained by the ropes that bound him. <i>No</i>, he thought. <i>But I am</i>.<i> Now I am</i>.</p><p id="f66d">Join Medium and support writers with your membership <a href="https://akilcannon.medium.com/membership">here</a></p>

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<p id="7a9e"><i>Read more microfiction by Alex Kilcannon:</i></p><div id="aac8" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/dragons-nest-6d53a2f5ec5e"> <div> <div> <h2>Dragon’s Nest</h2> <div><h3>In an abandoned dragon’s lair, two orphans meet their destiny</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*Qc8pIHn8kYvQkxkqQs_u8w.png)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

And a king in waiting

Jeers echoed through the mead hall. The Norsemen had found Edgar’s father among the newly arrived prisoners. Sigmund's milk-clouded gaze sought Edgar’s in their gloomy corner. “What’s happening, boy?” “They’re killing a king,” he said, used now to acting as the old man’s eyes. The victors roared. “He dies well?” His father’s head thudded to the rushes. “On his knees and in chains.” Sigmund spat. “Then he is no king.” Edgar sliced meat for the stew with the knife Sigmund passed him, his movements restrained by the ropes that bound him. No, he thought. But I am. Now I am.

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