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Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #1967138
The knights are stricken with the plague...
The kingdom hustled in preparation for the awakening.

Doors were bolted and children hushed, candles snuffed. It would be any day now; it could take up to a week.

King Ferdinand rallied his knights to do battle with the winter witches once they came out of their spring-to-autumn slumber. Village folk prayed for their safety, and for that of the King’s men.

“Your Majesty, the knights have fallen ill.”

“Ill? What with?”

“I fear it is the plague.”

The King closed his eyes. All would be forever lost now. “Alert the town. Seal up the castle. No one leaves, and no one enters.”

The advisor did as instructed, but a farmer lad had other plans. Upon hearing the news, he knew all was not lost. Slipping into the castle’s kitchens, he made his way past guards and up to the King’s grand chamber.

“Who is this boy?”

“Your Majesty, I’ve a plan.”

The following week, as harsh gales blew, all knew the winter witches had awoken. Farmer folk clad in knightly garb encircled the castle. When they arrived, the lad was the first to drop. The King let loose a single tear. Many would follow, but they’d win at last.



200 words



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