Monday Mixer, March 25


The ring of the blacksmith’s hammer echoed throughout the keep, its beat marking the seconds of the siege. The hours were signaled by blasts from the Duke’s mangonels, as day by day the outer walls were chipped away by rocks, chunks of wood, and the diseased remains of the Duke’s former serfs. The stench coming from the walls was awful, but it drew the carrion-eaters, who were easy prey themselves, flying low and slow over the keep. In my days at court, eating a vulture would have been scandalous, but ever since the last pig died last autumn, we thanked the goddesses for sending us this bounty.

Of late, I’d taken to spending the nights in my conservatory. The only things still growing in here were poisonous – everything that was edible had been eaten long ago. But none held a poison as potent as that which lay within my heart.


4 Responses to “Monday Mixer, March 25”

  1. So visual, great writing. Felt so sorry for those left in the keep.

  2. Really visceral… diseased remains of serfs…oh, I could smell the stench! Great piece!

  3. Wow! This is terrific. I totally had to go back and find a couple of the words because I was so busy reading I forgot about the prompt!!! 🙂

  4. very nice story. full of angst and a laced with a bit of poisonous mystery

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