| General Fiction posted December 5, 2021 |
  |
Final Words
Heirs
by zanya
In mid-December dusk fell early. Behind the brass fender showers of sparks from the log fire lit up the marble fireplace. A lone owl hooted in the distance.
The Lord of Brakmore Manor, Sir Wilfred, was in his last agony.
Sir Wilfred's breathing was laboured. His loyal footman, Lancaster, tended to his every need. For two weeks Lancaster kept watch through the long night hours.
Sir Wilfred's long life, four score and five years was drawing to a close. An ivory colored candle flickered by his bedside.
Arising from his chintz armchair, Lancaster strode to the window and opening the mahogany cabinet decanted a little whiskey in a tiny glass.
Reaching Sir Wilfred's bedside, Lancaster carefully daubed a few whiskey drops on his master's lips.
'Ah..ah,' Sir Wilfred murmured.
In early December Sir Wilfred's solicitor, James, had taken up residence at Brakmore Manor at his client's request. Sir Wilfred requested James to be present in his final hours.
As midnight struck on December 22nd, James knocked and then entered the chamber.
A bureau had been installed for James's use. Gossip was rife at Brakmore as to who would be heir to the estate.
Entering the chamber, James arranged his papers on the bureau.
Sir Wilfred's physician, Lord Haynsley, sat by the end of the bed, stethoscope at the ready.
'Sir Wilfred will soon depart this earthly life,' Lord Haynsley said in a low voice.
Lancaster was happy to be present for his master's impending demise.
Lancaster recalled quietly to himself how Sir Wilfred had turned up at the workhouse where he had been placed by his mother just before her death. He wondered why he had been selected to work at Brakmore Manor. He would be eternally grateful to Sir Wilfred for his act of kindness.
A loud moan from his dying master awoke Lancaster from his reverie.
'James, Lancaster,' Sir Wilfred called out in a sturdy voice, almost as he did in days of yore.
'Bring the papers, James. Have Lancaster sign the document stating he is my son, my bastard son and now heir to Brakmore Manor.'
James jumped up, papers in hand and went to the dying man.
Consternation arose as Lord Haynsley rushed to the bedside.
'What the devil..Wilfred?' Haynsley was heard muttering.
Haynsley leaned over the dying man.
Sir Wilfred raised his wasted frame to a sitting position and grasping the quill in his left hand, as was his wont, he signed the document.
Lancaster's countenance turned pale as he watched and listened.
Haynsley then checked for a pulse in Lord Wilfred's body but none was to be found.
James turned to Lancaster stating:
'You are now henceforth to be known as Sir Lancaster, as per your late father's wishes as you are now legally the blue blood son and heir of the deceased Sir Wilfred.'
Lancaster was bewildered by this strange turn of events. His fifty-five year old life would never be the same again.
He fretted about how his loyal household staff would receive such life-changing news.
'If only my beloved Mildred had lived to see this day,' he murmured.
Sir Lancaster turned and looked at the body of Sir Wilfred where it now lay, lifeless, on the satin sheets.
Striding towards the chamber door he threw it open and shouting at the top of his voice, he declared, ' Sir Lancaster is now heir to Brakmore Manor.'
Taking the wooden stairs two at a time, he descended to where the staff were preparing supper.
Catching sight of the stable boy, twenty-year-old Amis as he buffed the riding boots for the hunt the next day, he decided it would not be appropriate to wait until he was on his deathbed to give Amis his birthright.
****************
Final Words writing prompt entry
In mid-December dusk fell early. Behind the brass fender showers of sparks from the log fire lit up the marble fireplace. A lone owl hooted in the distance.
The Lord of Brakmore Manor, Sir Wilfred, was in his last agony.
Sir Wilfred's breathing was laboured. His loyal footman, Lancaster, tended to his every need. For two weeks Lancaster kept watch through the long night hours.
Sir Wilfred's long life, four score and five years was drawing to a close. An ivory colored candle flickered by his bedside.
Arising from his chintz armchair, Lancaster strode to the window and opening the mahogany cabinet decanted a little whiskey in a tiny glass.
Reaching Sir Wilfred's bedside, Lancaster carefully daubed a few whiskey drops on his master's lips.
'Ah..ah,' Sir Wilfred murmured.
In early December Sir Wilfred's solicitor, James, had taken up residence at Brakmore Manor at his client's request. Sir Wilfred requested James to be present in his final hours.
As midnight struck on December 22nd, James knocked and then entered the chamber.
A bureau had been installed for James's use. Gossip was rife at Brakmore as to who would be heir to the estate.
Entering the chamber, James arranged his papers on the bureau.
Sir Wilfred's physician, Lord Haynsley, sat by the end of the bed, stethoscope at the ready.
'Sir Wilfred will soon depart this earthly life,' Lord Haynsley said in a low voice.
Lancaster was happy to be present for his master's impending demise.
Lancaster recalled quietly to himself how Sir Wilfred had turned up at the workhouse where he had been placed by his mother just before her death. He wondered why he had been selected to work at Brakmore Manor. He would be eternally grateful to Sir Wilfred for his act of kindness.
A loud moan from his dying master awoke Lancaster from his reverie.
'James, Lancaster,' Sir Wilfred called out in a sturdy voice, almost as he did in days of yore.
'Bring the papers, James. Have Lancaster sign the document stating he is my son, my bastard son and now heir to Brakmore Manor.'
James jumped up, papers in hand and went to the dying man.
Consternation arose as Lord Haynsley rushed to the bedside.
'What the devil..Wilfred?' Haynsley was heard muttering.
Haynsley leaned over the dying man.
Sir Wilfred raised his wasted frame to a sitting position and grasping the quill in his left hand, as was his wont, he signed the document.
Lancaster's countenance turned pale as he watched and listened.
Haynsley then checked for a pulse in Lord Wilfred's body but none was to be found.
James turned to Lancaster stating:
'You are now henceforth to be known as Sir Lancaster, as per your late father's wishes as you are now legally the blue blood son and heir of the deceased Sir Wilfred.'
Lancaster was bewildered by this strange turn of events. His fifty-five year old life would never be the same again.
He fretted about how his loyal household staff would receive such life-changing news.
'If only my beloved Mildred had lived to see this day,' he murmured.
Sir Lancaster turned and looked at the body of Sir Wilfred where it now lay, lifeless, on the satin sheets.
Striding towards the chamber door he threw it open and shouting at the top of his voice, he declared, ' Sir Lancaster is now heir to Brakmore Manor.'
Taking the wooden stairs two at a time, he descended to where the staff were preparing supper.
Catching sight of the stable boy, twenty-year-old Amis as he buffed the riding boots for the hunt the next day, he decided it would not be appropriate to wait until he was on his deathbed to give Amis his birthright.
****************
The Lord of Brakmore Manor, Sir Wilfred, was in his last agony.
Sir Wilfred's breathing was laboured. His loyal footman, Lancaster, tended to his every need. For two weeks Lancaster kept watch through the long night hours.
Sir Wilfred's long life, four score and five years was drawing to a close. An ivory colored candle flickered by his bedside.
Arising from his chintz armchair, Lancaster strode to the window and opening the mahogany cabinet decanted a little whiskey in a tiny glass.
Reaching Sir Wilfred's bedside, Lancaster carefully daubed a few whiskey drops on his master's lips.
'Ah..ah,' Sir Wilfred murmured.
In early December Sir Wilfred's solicitor, James, had taken up residence at Brakmore Manor at his client's request. Sir Wilfred requested James to be present in his final hours.
As midnight struck on December 22nd, James knocked and then entered the chamber.
A bureau had been installed for James's use. Gossip was rife at Brakmore as to who would be heir to the estate.
Entering the chamber, James arranged his papers on the bureau.
Sir Wilfred's physician, Lord Haynsley, sat by the end of the bed, stethoscope at the ready.
'Sir Wilfred will soon depart this earthly life,' Lord Haynsley said in a low voice.
Lancaster was happy to be present for his master's impending demise.
Lancaster recalled quietly to himself how Sir Wilfred had turned up at the workhouse where he had been placed by his mother just before her death. He wondered why he had been selected to work at Brakmore Manor. He would be eternally grateful to Sir Wilfred for his act of kindness.
A loud moan from his dying master awoke Lancaster from his reverie.
'James, Lancaster,' Sir Wilfred called out in a sturdy voice, almost as he did in days of yore.
'Bring the papers, James. Have Lancaster sign the document stating he is my son, my bastard son and now heir to Brakmore Manor.'
James jumped up, papers in hand and went to the dying man.
Consternation arose as Lord Haynsley rushed to the bedside.
'What the devil..Wilfred?' Haynsley was heard muttering.
Haynsley leaned over the dying man.
Sir Wilfred raised his wasted frame to a sitting position and grasping the quill in his left hand, as was his wont, he signed the document.
Lancaster's countenance turned pale as he watched and listened.
Haynsley then checked for a pulse in Lord Wilfred's body but none was to be found.
James turned to Lancaster stating:
'You are now henceforth to be known as Sir Lancaster, as per your late father's wishes as you are now legally the blue blood son and heir of the deceased Sir Wilfred.'
Lancaster was bewildered by this strange turn of events. His fifty-five year old life would never be the same again.
He fretted about how his loyal household staff would receive such life-changing news.
'If only my beloved Mildred had lived to see this day,' he murmured.
Sir Lancaster turned and looked at the body of Sir Wilfred where it now lay, lifeless, on the satin sheets.
Striding towards the chamber door he threw it open and shouting at the top of his voice, he declared, ' Sir Lancaster is now heir to Brakmore Manor.'
Taking the wooden stairs two at a time, he descended to where the staff were preparing supper.
Catching sight of the stable boy, twenty-year-old Amis as he buffed the riding boots for the hunt the next day, he decided it would not be appropriate to wait until he was on his deathbed to give Amis his birthright.
****************
|
Writing Prompt Your character is going to die within moments. What are the final words? Describe the circumstances of the pending death. Fiction only. |
Image from Google
Just trying out my Historical Fiction wings again!
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Just trying out my Historical Fiction wings again!
You need to login or register to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.
© Copyright 2024. zanya All rights reserved.
zanya has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
