swords play #writephoto


Somehow when he’d applied for the position of swordholder at the Medieval Park he had gotten the impression that he’d be one of the knights. To be honest he would have settled for a townsman who was being dragged up to fight for the King or because the enemy was winning and they needed bodies for battle or even just the guy that had to deliver the swords to the knights. But this…

When he’d first been given the robe he felt a spark of excitement. You did occasionally see knights with robes, but only the important ones. Then they had handed him the sword and the spark ignited, he almost couldn’t contain himself. It was a thing of beauty, he imagined the looks on the other knight’s faces when he showed this one off.

As the costume manager and her assistant led him across the battlefields he felt triumphant when they started walking away from them the confusion started to blot his excitement a little. When the assistant handed him the shoes, that looked like regal slippers, he realised that he definitely wasn’t going to be fighting. They weaved through the market stalls and headed in the direction of the castle, he perked up once again.

A knight in the castle that would be brilliant!!

It would drive Dave mad since they’d both gone for the role hoping to make the jump from tour guides to reenactors. A little smug smile crept unto his face.

Oh yes, his time had come!

Oh no, where were they taking him now?

Past the large imposing castle; which with its modern conveniences like heaters and proper toilets would have been a brilliant place to end up; round the back and out to the wood. The smile on his face was a lot more forced than it had been mere moments ago. He had heard that they were making some of the older ruins accessible but nobody had been made aware of what the Trust had planned for them when it got to that stage.

They’d done a good job from what he could see, cleared the fallen trees and debris that had amassed over the years of misuse and abandonment before the Trust had taken it over. Atmospheric lights had been put in to give it a bit more appeal and he was pretty sure that it was a speaker making all the distant animal noises that he could hear, although he hadn’t spotted one.

He could work with this, a new project was always exciting and would bring a lot of visitors and he’d have a starring role. It would be a bit of a challenge for his first time doing reenactments but he was fairly confident that he would meet it head on and come out on top.

As they made their way into the building he noticed that it had been left in a more natural state than the usual stagings, a bit more…rustic…and cold. There were some ancient looking ornaments, candle holders were dotted about but the heat from the candles was pretty non-existent, a lot of old looking books and some tapestries that looked forcibly aged, he could make out a large five-pointed star on one of them. The long curly haired wig that the assistant handed to him, streaked with grey and one that would definitely add a few years to him, made his stomach lurch.

‘This is part of the costume?’

‘Yeah, adds a little more authenticity.’ she smiled brightly as if she hadn’t at all realised that this was the moment that his excitement would start to seep away. This was feeling less and less like any of the things he had hoped for when applying for the role, pretending to die bravely on the battlefield, the camaraderie of the townsfolk, as much or as little interaction as he liked, but he would try and make the best of it.

After he had put on the wig, he was pulled this way and that whilst the manager decided where best to place him.

‘Oh wait I’ve got it,’ she moved him toward a wall where the openings in the ruins had created some nice natural light, ‘Yes, that is perfect, now hold up the sword.’

He lifted the sword and looked to the manager and the assistant as they scrutinised him.

‘No that’s not quite working, is it?’

‘What if…oh no never mind.’

‘Go ahead, I’m open to ideas.’ Instead of telling the manager what she thought, the assistant came toward him and started moving him.

‘Perfect, yes, what a good idea, brilliant. Thanks Penny. So Ross if you can just stay like that we’ve got the tour guides coming round to do mock tours so they can prepare for questions and have all their info straight. Thanks’

‘Wait this is it? You want me to face the back wall.’ He was perplexed as to what was going on, he wouldn’t be seen and he hadn’t been given any guidelines on what to say.

‘Yes, that is perfect.’

‘But what do I say to the tour people?’

‘Nothing, you aren’t a talking character. In fact, for now, I would try and move as little as possible, we’ll have a think and see what kind of routine your character has for the future but we need to get some feedback from tour groups first.’

They stayed until he resumed his position and it didn’t take long until he heard a murmur of voices that were growing ever louder. He heard them talking about the remote location and the blessing of the sword before battle, but what really caught his attention was the voice. It was Dave, he was leading the mock tour, he was about to come into the building.

I’ll never live this down.


Written in response to the #writephoto prompt that was created by Sue Vincent.

Use the image and title provided as inspiration to create a post on your own blog… poetry, prose, humour… light or dark, whatever you choose…and link back to the promt post with a pingback to be included in the round-up.  There is no word limit and no style requirements, except to keep it fairly family friendly and not passionately political.


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