Before the Green Knight knew of Angelina, he was known of her.
[Part one of two
Sward in hand, the Green Knight, silently slipped between the large columns of the underground fortress of sorts, more likened to an ancient Roman dungeon, a ruins from before the days of Christ, or during, perhaps even catacombs, for there were many tunnels; thus the Green Knight stood within these black shadows floating about on the side of a column, expecting anything to happen, perhaps even an ambush, but he was the lurking beast of prey, not them.
Utter silence filled my being in this underground cavern, under the great floors of Jerusalem, waiting and looking for the chance, the moment to use my great sword edge against my prey. My insides roared like a distant lion. This underground ruin was used as a gathering place for planning attacks on King Richards legions. I knew this long ago, but today the conspiracy would end, so I told myself.
As I looked ahead I shif ted from one open space to the next, I came to a great circle of broken pillars, and halted stone-still, emotionless, eyes gazing from wall to wall, sword in one hand, a torch in the other. Several men, Arabs were roasting meat, pieces of thick meat, it smelled good, all I could see were their backs, robs and swords to their sides.
They had evidently build the fire recently, it was burning high, and the logs were flickering in the October chill, as a draft come down form the ceiling form someplace over head, their meat still cooking.
I came up behind them like a jackal in the night, swift, for the kill, to kill one must be thirsty for it, be like a snake, dehumanize his prey, as maggots squirming in a skull, thus, across the open square I went, swiftly, as they had broken out in a hellish laughter, blinding sweat came down my forehead, I almost stopped my run: knowing the nature of my foe I went crazy from behind them, I slashed right and left with my sword.
I brought devastation upon them, and when I was dune with my rampage: hands, feet, grinning heads, flesh, gobs of blood littered the campsite, the heads rolled off them like marble busts, teeth still grinning, eyes pale in the flickering light of the underground tombs fire, torn limbs, bones broken, perturbing out of their flesh, they were sliced up like the meat they were abut to devour.
A chill filled my spine, and as I pulled myself together I had to ask: what beast did this? (Of course it was I.)
My king was right, King Richard the Lion Heart: leave no one escape to tell false stories, and I didnt.
I was shaken with horror, and my dark suspicions correct; I left this dungeon of sorts with a sigh of relief, or started to leave it when I noticed one of the muscular limbs was of a woman, then I saw her slender parts, who was this girl I asked myself, she was not Arab
The Green Knight Lurking Menace
VII
[1184 AD: Angelina of Glastonbur y
[Part two of two
The girl had not escaped my hand or sword, I was her slayer, but had I know of her presence, it would have altered my plans, and my frame of mind Im sure.
This girl who hid amongst the Arabs, as if she was one, was not of course one, but had turned from Christianity to be a Muslim, and was torn it seems to me on her duty, to kill, and fight for their cause, or to live a normal life, whateverI was her lurking menace, and her means of death.
The fire seemed to me to be a weird form of an underground moonlight, reflecting on the body parts as I looked at the hidden eyes in the seven decapitated heads. I paced about, had my eyes come back to the girl several times. I followed the tail of blood from her head to her neck (to her torso).
I was walking around the pillar like a drunk knight. My human frame erect, as I walked a ways, down the dark corridor, halfway down, I heard a voice say, Green Knight, Green Knight, come back!
The voice sounded like a freighted child on her way to hell. I went back swiftly through the black tunnels, then came upon the campsite again, bend over the fire, the head close by, the head of the girls, I looked into her eyes, of that decapitated head, nausea befell me, yes, I said, then it spoke, This is the year of the birth of my cousin, Angelina, I have seen her in a vision, as you will, her eyes now pitched dark, then in a low urgent voice she cried out once more, find her in the year 1199 AD and marry her, she will be raped, stop it, she will be waiting for you!
Then I got a brood impression of a shapeless bulk leave this tomb, it circled around me, it was her, swiftly taken to the pits of hell by two flying dark demon, all I saw were the shadows, but the mind can at times transpose them figures to its rightful shapes and owners, and my mind did. As I left the underground cavern, my soul was happy, but my mind too full of thinks I knew nothing about. And I kne w if I lived to the year 1199, Id seek this maiden out, but with all the wars at hand, I had my doubts Id live that long.
Dennis had written the original story of The Rape of Angelina of Glastonbury,' upon his return from that very location, in April, 2002; which won the heart of the Editor in an international magazine to call it: the best story of its kind in a decade. It was written about five years ago. Since then he wrote five linking parts to it, and here was the last part, VI, ...the Ghost of Glastonbury, a one chapter concluding story, but again, it seems to have acquired a life of its own, and Dennis has written out at the Caf during lunch [El Parquetitos, in Lima, Peru today, part VII, which you will be seeing soon, the Green Knight--Lurking Beast of Prey which is a two part story. Rosa
See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com
Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Short Story
Post by History of the Computer | Computer safety tips
No comments:
Post a Comment