| General Fiction posted October 13, 2022 |
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Final Words /Fiction
Equus
by zanya
Final Words Contest Winner
Lord Archibald pushed his silken nightcap back from his sweaty forehead.
"What the deuce.." he muttered in a voice that was fast losing its renowned bellowing quality.
His night nurse, Annabelle, hadn't left his side since his physician's prognosis that a man of his years, all 96 of them, couldn't expect to see much more of this world.
Annabelle, 60 years old had been his nurse for thirty years. Now that her son was fighting on the front line of the World War 11 she considered it her duty to take care of the Lord of Wydale Manor.
Her late father, Arthur, had been head gardener at Wydale and her Mama, Jane had laboured in the kitchens at Wydale.
'Lord Archibald is a good man,' her father used to say. He looked after the people of Wydale for many a long year.'
Many of the locals agreed with that sentiment. Many there were in Wydale that didn't agree. Archibald, was, in their eyes, greedy. Unmarried and with no mouths to feed, they were sure he had deposits of gold hidden far from Wydale.
Local tongues wagged and today neighbours lifted a tiny corner of their kitchen curtain to stare up at Wydale, perched high on a hill above the village of one hundred or so souls.
Rumour had it that Archibald would not see the morrow. Some thought it was a pity since tomorrow would be the annual Spring Fair and Archibald loved to ride into town on his dapple grey mare and mingle with the locals.
Another crunch of carriage wheels outside his window told him that the time of his demise couldn't be far off.
'The vultures are gathering,' he mused. A wry smile played around the corners of his mouth.
Rumours spread quickly in Wydale. Still in possession of all his faculties, he knew only too well how the locals viewed him, some with their deep-seated jealousy. Others saw him as Scrooge with not a generous bone in his skinny body.
Suddenly he coughed with a rasping sound. Annabelle ran to fetch the bowl of steaming water.
Pushing the bowl aside, Archibald sat bolt upright in his iron bed, his night cap pitched at a rprecise angle.
Beckoning his attorney with his skinny index finger, he bellowed,' Time to go.'
The door of the bedroom burst open and his faithful equerry, Lord James, stood at a respectable distance from his bed.
There were whispers to be heard rippling around the room. People nudged each other. Was James of the house of Wydale?'
Archibald spoke at the top of his voice,' My estate I bequeath to my most faithful and cherished companion of my earthly life, my favourite and beloved stallion, 'Equus' and his future offspring, legal matters for same to be executed by my attorney.'
With that he keeled over and lay still on the satin sheets.
There was an audible gasp from the bystanders.
'Mean old bastard,' someone muttered. Another whispered a heartfelt prayer for Archibald's immortal soul.
From that day forward Equus was ferried across seas and continents to carry out his stallion duties with elan.
James smiled contentedly at the final line of Archibald's Last Will & Testament, unseen by prying eyes in Wydale, stating that Wydale was to be, in the fullness of time inherited by James.
Paternity was a grey zone in those bygone days.
***********************
Lord Archibald pushed his silken nightcap back from his sweaty forehead.
"What the deuce.." he muttered in a voice that was fast losing its renowned bellowing quality.
His night nurse, Annabelle, hadn't left his side since his physician's prognosis that a man of his years, all 96 of them, couldn't expect to see much more of this world.
Annabelle, 60 years old had been his nurse for thirty years. Now that her son was fighting on the front line of the World War 11 she considered it her duty to take care of the Lord of Wydale Manor.
Her late father, Arthur, had been head gardener at Wydale and her Mama, Jane had laboured in the kitchens at Wydale.
'Lord Archibald is a good man,' her father used to say. He looked after the people of Wydale for many a long year.'
Many of the locals agreed with that sentiment. Many there were in Wydale that didn't agree. Archibald, was, in their eyes, greedy. Unmarried and with no mouths to feed, they were sure he had deposits of gold hidden far from Wydale.
Local tongues wagged and today neighbours lifted a tiny corner of their kitchen curtain to stare up at Wydale, perched high on a hill above the village of one hundred or so souls.
Rumour had it that Archibald would not see the morrow. Some thought it was a pity since tomorrow would be the annual Spring Fair and Archibald loved to ride into town on his dapple grey mare and mingle with the locals.
Another crunch of carriage wheels outside his window told him that the time of his demise couldn't be far off.
'The vultures are gathering,' he mused. A wry smile played around the corners of his mouth.
Rumours spread quickly in Wydale. Still in possession of all his faculties, he knew only too well how the locals viewed him, some with their deep-seated jealousy. Others saw him as Scrooge with not a generous bone in his skinny body.
Suddenly he coughed with a rasping sound. Annabelle ran to fetch the bowl of steaming water.
Pushing the bowl aside, Archibald sat bolt upright in his iron bed, his night cap pitched at a rprecise angle.
Beckoning his attorney with his skinny index finger, he bellowed,' Time to go.'
The door of the bedroom burst open and his faithful equerry, Lord James, stood at a respectable distance from his bed.
There were whispers to be heard rippling around the room. People nudged each other. Was James of the house of Wydale?'
Archibald spoke at the top of his voice,' My estate I bequeath to my most faithful and cherished companion of my earthly life, my favourite and beloved stallion, 'Equus' and his future offspring, legal matters for same to be executed by my attorney.'
With that he keeled over and lay still on the satin sheets.
There was an audible gasp from the bystanders.
'Mean old bastard,' someone muttered. Another whispered a heartfelt prayer for Archibald's immortal soul.
From that day forward Equus was ferried across seas and continents to carry out his stallion duties with elan.
James smiled contentedly at the final line of Archibald's Last Will & Testament, unseen by prying eyes in Wydale, stating that Wydale was to be, in the fullness of time inherited by James.
Paternity was a grey zone in those bygone days.
***********************
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Writing Prompt Your character is going to die within moments. What are the final words? Describe the circumstances of the pending death. Fiction only. |
Final Words Contest Winner |
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