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Valdemaar was a slave. With his master's death, he gains unexpected freedom. |
“I am dying” king Frederik said, and with that, he passed his last breath. Valdemaar, his devoted servant, fell to the ground. The king had captured him when he was only five and since then, he had known nothing else but the strength of his lord. This is how my grandma used to tell us the story of my great-great-great grandpa Val. Apparently, he was not all that clever, if you know what I mean. Valdemaar started to cry. Soldiers rode by, seemingly disinterested by the great king’s dramatic death. “What are you running after, you ignorant fools?” Women ran half naked to escape rape or torture, and children sat between the rows of cabbage, probably hoping something miraculous would happen. Valdemaar did not remember having ever been free to decide for himself. He was lost. He got up. His master looked very small in the sparse grass. Rain started to fall and plots of mud gently splashed on his clothes, on his helmet and on his mouth. His master, ridiculed by death, looked comical in his immobility. Shaken by nervous laughter, Valdemaar accidentally kicked Frederik’s leg. He lowered his head, waiting for the familiar fist to hit him. But then, he laughed even harder. “You dead animal!” he muttered. Then he heard them: screaming, howling… all the sounds brave men use to motivate each other to commit more villainy. Valdemaar turned away from his king and ran over to the children squatted among the vegetable. While his king’s brave soldiers were killing women and old folks at will, he signalled the little people to follow him and lead them to the forest. For weeks, they hid in the woods, feeding on fruits and drinking rain water. And that, my friend, was how they got away with everything. ********************* Word count: 298 Start: The king is dead. Ending: Valdemaar saved all the children, and himself Plot: What is going on in Val’s head as he realises he is free Setting: A village savaged by soldiers. |