𝑨𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒉 | ✔️

11 | Plan For Change

Summer, 6th June 864AD – Night

The hall quietened down once the king and his family rose out of their seats. A cool breeze from the partly opened entrance brushed against my hair.

I glanced back, seeing an elderly man in tattered clothes limped inside the hall. He must have been the last village to received news about tonight's town meeting.

Oblivious to the late comer, the villagers faced King Brandon; eager for his commencement of tonight's meeting.

Clearing his throat, King Brandon began to speak.

"Citizens of East Anglia, I am aware you are still traumatized by the aftermath of the recent Viking attack."

Nods and murmurs of agreement echoed through the crowd.

"I understand you have lost so many loved ones and have had your valuables stolen and your homes ruined. Right now is indeed a dark, troubled time." King Brandon hung his head low. He motioned Friar Edgar to come forward.

He was an elderly man draped a dark brown robe secured with a rope around the waist. A golden crucifix pendant adorned with rubies and sapphire hung around his neck.

"Friar Edgar, would you do the honour to lead us in prayer?"

Nodding, the elderly friar closed his eyes and extended his arms. We followed his lead. Soon, the hall grew silent; the only sound heard was Friar Edgar's muttered prayer.

Shutting my eyes, I discarded all distractions aside. However, my mind kept replaying the argument between me and Edwyn earlier. Specifically, the final things he said.

About my place here being nothing but a useless seamstress.

My blood boiled the more his arrogant voice echoed in the walls of my mind. I'll show him I'm more than that.

One day, there will be a time when women can break free from traditional gender roles and finally prove they're just as capable as any man.

"Forgive us for our sins, O God," Friar Edgar's voice trembled as he prayed. I imagine the friar raising his arms now, his head pointed to the heavens. "Save us from the wrath of the Danes! We know they have come as punishment for our sins; our immoral affairs; our hatred words and actions towards one another; our wrongdoings. We pray for those who have lost their loved ones or who have no home to shelter themselves."

As the prayer dragged longer, I found myself losing deeper into my subconscious. In my hazy mind, I pictured a scene. Something from my childhood I've had vague memories of.

I saw my nine-year-old self sitting by the hearth in my home. In my hands was a piece of fabric and a needle. My mother sat beside me, her fingers fiddling with the needle in her hand.

She spoke something to me, but I couldn't understand what she said. Then my nine-year-old self watched as she worked on an embroidery. Whatever she was weaving, I'm certain it must have been a gift for a family or companion.

I tried concentrating on mother's face in glowing embers.

The outline of her heart-shaped face, her precious smile and her soft waist-length ebony hair shone highlighted her beautiful features. She had been a rare beauty who tragically met a grim fate.

Once the prayer ended, Friar Edgar returned to his place.

I opened my eyes after the memory faded. I'm brought back to the present, and it felt like forever had passed.

"Thank you, Friar Edgar. In dire times like this we need encouragement from each other and our Heavenly Father." King Brandon's gaze fell to the crowd. "Now, I would not have called this meeting if it had not been from a distressed young woman." His glass-green gaze fixed on me. "Ardith, come forward."