Well, i haven't written my story, not the history project one for a while so here's the latest part...
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The room was bright, like most hospital rooms, but the light was unusual; too bright. I stared around the room, there was something odd about the quality of light, it bounced of the walls, and off of the people standing around me. So that the edges of my vision was blurred in a white haze. I also couldn’t make out who the people standing around me were.
The lighting was like the way I viewed dreams, not quite real, not quite defined. But then again, my vision was probably impaired by the pain, blinding white pain, residing inside me, held off by quickly disappearing pain killers. Just then two people entered the room.
Someone spoke, but the noise didn’t make sense to me, I was too busy staring at the bright lights shining on the people who’d entered. They spoke again, I frowned the noise was annoying, almost painful. Too loud, it vibrated in my ears. I remembered they’d brought me water.
“Water!” I gasped, they turned to me, and someone held a shining white cylinder to me. I took it and gulped down the cool substance thankfully. The other people where talking again, I strained my ears to make sense of the sounds. I closed my eyes and it helped.
“How is she doctor?” A high voice asked, it was familiar, like the voice of my mum…
“Well it all depends on her, she suffered some serious injuries. Three of her ribs are broken, her right leg was crushed, and her brain was seriously damaged. We fixed her ribs and put a splint on her leg, but the part of her mid that was hurt… Well no ones ever had such serious damage and lived before. It’s a miracle she can even breathe, let alone ask for water.”
“What do you mean?”
“The part of her brain that controls her organs, her sight, speech and senses was seriously damaged. Leaving her with only the usually unused part of the brain intact.”
“Oh.”
Oh indeed. I couldn’t believe that I could be that hurt, how was I thinking now? How was I alive? Was it a miracle? How could this be happening to me? Me? It always happens to someone else, I’d never expected that I’d be the one sitting in hospital, my life hanging on how strong I was. But I had to be strong enough. I had to.
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That's all for now
Yours Forever
-Sky
Monday 24 November 2008
Sunday 16 November 2008
I'm obsessed...
No not with Drawing!
Or writing!
Or randomly laughing!
Okay maybe i am, but u already knew that( er meybe not the laughing but....)
No what i mean is i'm newly obsessed with....
http://freerice.com/
Check it out it really rocks.
And with trhe piano.
Yes i'm obsessed with the piano.
I'v been drawing pictures of random people playing the piano
I've been writing peotry about pianos
I've been sneaking into the music block after school to play on the pianos for 2 hours after school every day!
I'm obsessed.
All i talk about is the paino.
So there u go.
Yours Forever
-Sky
Or writing!
Or randomly laughing!
Okay maybe i am, but u already knew that( er meybe not the laughing but....)
No what i mean is i'm newly obsessed with....
http://freerice.com/
Check it out it really rocks.
And with trhe piano.
Yes i'm obsessed with the piano.
I'v been drawing pictures of random people playing the piano
I've been writing peotry about pianos
I've been sneaking into the music block after school to play on the pianos for 2 hours after school every day!
I'm obsessed.
All i talk about is the paino.
So there u go.
Yours Forever
-Sky
Friday 14 November 2008
The rest of my story
Far away in distance dawns,
Summer falls,
Winter comes.
Like a spark the sky can light,
Colours fly,
Until the rise of night.
Cold,
Cold and bitter,
Snow,
*Snow ball fights yay!* (hehe oops, um ignore that....)
Urgh!
Lost it.
Had the poem going quite well though.
Ah well maybe another time.
Here's the story....
Prologue
The questioner sat back in his chair and stared at the woman clad in black, she glared at him as her sister wept on her shoulder. Jane Verney, wife of Sir Edmund Verney had refused to give him any information on her husband’s whereabouts. She’d also stopped her sister, Anne Verney, from answering their questions; the poor woman was reduced to tears in her sister’s shoulders.
“I am deeply sorry that you can not help us m’am,” Said the questioner, feeling deeply sorry. This was going too far, the war should be won on the battle field, not by questioning women and children. “I am forced to bring questioning to your children; bring them in.”
The woman and her sister fell back into the doorway, as the guard brought in the two children. Both looked roughly sixteen. As soon as they entered the room the boy stepped forwards, leaving his sister behind him.
“So, Mr Verney, I have some questions to ask you, first what is your age?”
“Fifteen.” The boy answered, but he answered not in that of a boy, but in a manner of a man.
“Your name?”
“Edward Verney.”
“Your sister’s?”
The girl took a step forward; the guard followed her, keeping an arm around her shoulders, in an almost patronizing way.
“Bethany Verney,” She answered, her tone also surprised him for it held the sureness and certainty of a true gentleman’s.
“Your age child?”
“Fifteen.”
“Do you know why you’re here?”
“I can guess,” She said coldly.
“You’re father is with the King.”
“Yes.” The boy answered this time.
“May I ask what you think of this.”
“My father is a clever and loyal man; that loyalty was to his life long friend; the King, although he may not agree with the King, he chose to help his friend. I think the King is a fool and a scut, who’s ruining the country. But I have not a word against my father.”
“And you Miss Verney?”
“My thoughts are the same.”
“We are with Parliament.”
“We noticed.” The boy said, nodding at the guard, clad in his Roundhead soberness.
“So naturally we are enemies.”
“I would think so; however I have no wish of fighting you.” The boy said.
“Why would you indeed? You are outnumbered.”
The girl laughed bitterly.
“You are mistaken my dear sir.”
“I am?”
“Edward and I could beat you with our eyes closed.”
“You fight?”
“I thought you would have realised that, given the nature of how you found us.”
“Indeed,” The questioner said, “But if you can beat us so, why do you stand there talking?”
“As Edward said, we have no wish of fighting you. We wish to choose a side, for we have realised that this war is too dangerous for us to remain neutral. Our older brother Ralph is with you, as we should be, but we want to consider the King’s side also, for we are no fools.” The girl smiled sadly at them.
“You think you’re here on your terms?”
“I know we’re here on our terms. We could have fled the field; we’d beaten your men. But instead we allowed ourselves to be escorted here.” The girl said.
“Well, I was under the impression you were here to be questioned by me.”
“Yes, we also have a question for you though.” The boy nodded at his sister.
“‘I have eaten his bread and served him near thirty years, and will not do so base a thing as to forsake him; and choose rather to lose my life (which I am sure to do) to preserve and defend those things which are against my conscience to preserve and defend’” The girl sighed, “My father wrote so in a letter to us.”
“So now I ask you, why should we fight for you when our loyalty lies with the king?”
“But you are too young to fight!”
“Yes, you would think so, however we have fought, and although we don’t intend to fight in any more wars, we wish to choose a side to support and help.”
“Well Parliament is stronger and we are right, so naturally we shall win.”
“‘And choose rather to lose my life (which I am sure to do) to preserve and defend those things which are against my conscience to preserve and defend’” The girl said mournfully.
“Please!” Cried the questioner, “Let me ask you my question!”
“Ask away sir.” The boy said.
“Is your uncle fighting for the King?”
“No Parliament.”
“And when did you last see your father?”
Chapter 1
Bethany
It was dawn. The sun’s golden rays crept through the dark gardens, reflecting off the fresh morning dew and spider webs. The roses gleamed red, the water droplets on their delicate petals glowing in the early morning light. A lark sang his mournful tune, until he was joined by another bird, and another. They chatted and sang and welcomed the new day.
Dawn was my favourite time of day. No one but the servants were awake, so I wouldn’t be missed. The best place to view the rising of the sun was on top of the bell tower; but since it was locked and very hard to climb to I couldn’t go there. Instead I had to make do with the roof of our estate.
I was risking a lot by being here. Not only was I sitting on the roof of one of the most expensive and important buildings in England, I was disobeying my father. My father has a dreadful temper. He is one of the king’s closest friends and supporters. He’s one of the richest men in England. And so I, his daughter, am expected to be a proper lady, who will marry a rich nobleman and bear many heirs.
As if.
I might have grown up to be a lady who sits at home and looks after her husband. If only I didn’t have a twin brother; Edward. Edward is everything a man should be, handsome, intelligent and strong. He enjoys hunting, riding, fighting and is quick witted. My father’s so proud. How does this affect me?
When we were younger we’d play together, the only children in a large household; though we’re still ‘children’ now I suppose, just not young children. He soon discovered that I was a good fighter, a trusty friend and an excellent playmate. Together we’d climb the trees’ in the gardens, have sword fights using sticks and go riding around the grounds.
My father was furious of course, a young girl, climbing trees! Ruining her dresses! Riding horses like a man! Fighting, and beating I should add; though he’d never admit it, his son and heir! So I was forbidden to climb, fight or ride ever again. Naturally I rebelled and did all of them anyway, with the help of Edward. Only now, I had to be more careful.
I’m easily recognised; a fifteen year old girl, with flaming red hair and ‘intense’ blue eyes. My features didn’t help much. I said my brother was handsome; well he’s a part of me, my other half. In more ways than one; we both got our fathers strong looks, not to mention his strong will. I had strong cheekbones and a high neck.
Unfortunately, I also got my mother’s beauty. I have her red hair and pale skin. I have her soft nose and perfect lips. The combination of my parent’s appearances resulted in me looking like ‘a unique beauty’. My uncle, another powerful and important man, on first seeing me exclaimed; ‘By the gods George! You have an angel in your hands!’
My parents are extremely pleased with my ‘beauty’; it’s guaranteed to get me a good husband. Ugh. I’d trade anything to be someone else.
But as I was saying, I’m easily recognised. So in order to get out by myself I had to dress as a servant. I dress in simple trousers and use a rope for a belt; I wear a small blouse and a jacket. My hair’s stuffed into a hat. I go about barefoot; mainly because I’ve yet to find suitable shoes.
A bit of mud and I can pass as a man.
That’s another problem. Women aren’t allowed to dress as men. I’d be severely punished if my father ever found out. Edward; the traitor, disapproved of me climbing up here every morning dressed as a man. So he wouldn’t come up here with me. As we get older Edward get’s more and more like our father. He’s intensely into politics and has started to show signs of wanting me to be more of a lady. Fortunately, I’m his favourite sparring partner so he won’t tell on me.
So here I sat, breaking every rule my father enforced, breaking quite a few laws as well. Just to see the sun rising, just to be alone, just to be free of everything happening below me. I sat waiting for the church bell to ring, telling me it was getting late.
Then the bell did ring, but not how I expected it to; the usual way it rang was once in the morning, to hold the morning communion; to pray to God and thank him for the new day. Once in the afternoon, and once in the evening. This time when the bell rang, it didn’t stop ringing. Which meant only one thing. Someone had died, someone very important had died.
Chapter 2
Edward
I ran. I ran like my life depended on it. I kept my head bent down, looking at the floor as I ran. I jumped over potholes and dogged between people in my path. I breathed raggedly and finally jogged to a stop outside the church. The bell was still ringing. I started to jog up the path when a young boy wearing servant’s clothes ran up next to me.
“Beth!” I hissed, grabbing her by the arm.
“Edward?” She gasped as I pulled her back.
I grabbed her and pulled her behind a tree, what was she doing? Did she want to get arrested? “What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.
“The same thing as you.” She snapped, glaring defiantly at me, I sighed, I knew that look, it was awfully like the one I used when I was going to have the last word. I sighed again, she was stubborn as hell, and I loved her for it, my sister, my twin.
“Beth, you have to get out of those clothes.”
“I want to know who died.” Of course she did, I did myself; our thoughts were often the same, and so I knew she wouldn’t give up until she knew who’d died.
“Beth, I’ll go in and find out. You go get changed, I’ll tell you, promise.” Knowing Beth she wouldn’t like that.
“I want to hear it for myself.” I knew her too well.
“Beth.” I groaned.
Just then the bell stopped ringing. We looked at each other in shock, then in unison we turned and ran towards the church. I couldn’t quite see her beside me but I felt her. I knew she was there, on my left, always at my back.
We flew into the church together, scattering quite a few people as we came in.
“Who is it?” Demanded Beth.
“Who is it?” I demanded.
Together we asked, “Who died?”
The man turned around and looked at us both.
“No one has died.” He said. He wasn’t our normal priest. He was dressed in white, he had on a golden pendant and rings coated his fingers, he was bulkier than Father John, and was very clearly not Father John. But as I looked around the church I noticed the obvious difference and groaned. I felt Beth tense beside me.
The priest’s lavish clothes, the churches new décor, it could only mean one thing.
“He didn’t.” She groaned.
“He did.” I muttered; an empty feeling started to consume me. He’d done it. Father had chosen his side. We’d been stalling as long as possible to try and see which side would be best to fight for. Personally I thought that Parliament had it right, our King was a vain sour-faced scut. However it was evident who father had wanted to support. He’d obviously made the decision to make it official.
It wasn’t surprising really; King Charles was one of Father’s closest friends. The only thing that had made him hesitate was common sense, being a politician he’d obviously realised how dangerous choosing Charles would be. That was all thrown out the window now, Father had chosen Charles and we’d have to live with it.
I heard Beth curse under her breath next to me.
“Why did you ring the bell if no one died?” I didn’t really care, the fact Father had finally made up his mind, and not told me was much more important.
“To celebrate the coming of the King,” He said in obvious surprise that we hadn’t realised this was the reason.
Beth choked and started coughing loudly to try and regain her breath.
“The King?” She squeaked, looking up with a look of absolute horror. Ah yes, Beth strongly agreed with me on the fact that the King shouldn’t be King. She didn’t like the way he was running the country, she’s surprisingly good with politics, for a girl anyway.
“Coming here?” She whispered.
“When?” I hissed, surprised that my voice resembled hers so much; hollow and raspy.
“Why he’s entering town right now,” Said the new Priest, sounding happy about it. Well whippy doo for him.
“Now?” Hissed Beth.
“Now.” He beamed.
I had turned and was running through the door as fast as I could, I had to find father! What I would do I didn’t know, but I had to do something! The King was coming here, had come here! Father hadn’t told me. The change in the church had happened today. It wouldn’t be the first change, and unless I did something soon all hope would be lost.
“Beth you have to get changed!” I yelled, she was running right beside me, she was a faster runner than me, she amazes me sometimes, so I knew she was deliberately keeping pace with me.
“There’s no time!” She shrieked back.
“For God’s sake! If Father sees you, if the King sees you you’ll be dead, worse than dead, Beth go get changed!”
She glared at me.
“Beth, please!” She was stubborn but she knew what would happen to us if the King found out. She’d go get changed.
“Don’t do anything without me.” She frowned slightly then sped up remarkably; how she managed it I have no idea, I was running my fastest… at that pace she’d reach the ‘house’ before me.
Chapter 3
Bethany
I ran as fast as I could, I reached home in record timing and began sprinting through endless corridors, why did this place have to be so big! I finally reached my rooms and bolted in to find my maidservant Anne cleaning my room. She turned and stared at me, “Can I help you?” She asked.
Oh distempered dog-hearted clotpoles.
“The master wishes to see you,” I said, lowering my voice so that she I didn’t sound like a girl so much.
“Sir Verney? Why?” She simpered.
I coughed like I’d seen Edward cough, “Not my business to say, m’am.” I added for extra benefit, I’d never called anyone, let alone a servant m’am before, hah my father’d have a fit!
“Go tell him I’m unavailable, that I’ll be with him as soon as I can.” She said in a flustered voice.
“But m’am…”
“Go!”
I turned and ran around the corner, I then watched her run out of my room and down into the servants quarters.
Voices from behind me made me turn and I gasped in shock, my father was walking up the hall. With him was a man clad in royalist clothes, he wasn’t the king but he was clearly with him. I strained my ears and heard my father say; “Yes, she’s usually up by now, I’m sure Charles will love her…”
Her. Her could only mean one person. Me.
I ran into my room, locking the door and hurriedly started undressing, curse it! Where had I put my blue dress! It was the only one I liked; it was simple and didn’t show off my figure. I couldn’t find it and I could hear my father’s voice approaching my room. I grabbed a rich, not to mention heavy, yellow dress, I managed to pull it on and I sprinted, as well as I could in this thing, to my mirror. I stared at my dirty and dishevelled hair. I washed my face until my cheeks were red and then started pulling the comb through my hair.
Two knocks on my door, made me pause a second before I started brushing my hair at an even faster pace.
“Bethany?” Father called.
“Yes father?” I called back, my voice almost breaking.
“Come out dear, we have guests.”
“I know,” I muttered under my breath. “Coming!” I cried, pining my hair up, some of it fell down again and I groaned, I grabbed a yellow ribbon and tied it over the pin. I stared at my reflection; a strikingly beautiful girl stared back. I sighed unhappily. My mussed hair actually made my features look even better. Great. This was going to be horrible.
“Bethany-” My father began again, but I pulled the door open.
“Father,” I said, curtseying and bowing my head, before I looked up again.
“Beth, this is Prince Rupert, he is here escorting the King.”
“Sir,” I said holding out my hand, he looked shocked but quickly recovered, bending to kiss my hand and then turned to my father. My father shot a pleased glance at me, he obviously thought, I’d wanted Prince what’s his name to kiss my hand, ew. I’d meant for him to shake it.
“Edmund, your daughter is beautiful, and a proper lady at that,” He nodded at me, “Shall we proceed to the gates, I do believe Charles will be arriving soon.”
“Yes lets,” Father glared at me meaningfully, I scowled at him, but then said, in my best ‘lady’ voice (which was actually very good) “Of coarse, sorry to have delayed you.”
“No problem milady.” Said the Prince. Hmph, Milady. Hah, if only they’d seen my five minutes ago.
Father, seeing my reluctance to go, grabbed my arm and dragged my along beside him, I scowled horribly at him and he smiled knowingly back. My father knew me almost as well as Edward did. The almost being he didn’t know I ran around pretending to be a male servant.
We entered the hall, just as Edward did; he sprinted in, paused for a second, looked at me frantically and saw how father had trapped me by holding my arm. He saw we had ‘company’ and straightened, he then walked swiftly to father.
“Father.” He said stiffly.
“Ah you must be Edward, your father speaks of you often, and it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
I gagged, as I tried to repress giggles, I could imagine how Edward would respond to that; an absolute stranger, clad in royalist clothes, saying it was a pleasure to meet him. Pleasure!
“Pleasure.” Muttered Edward, glaring at me as I shook with silent laughter.
“Yes I’m sure Edward’s absolutely delighted with your visit.” I sniggered.
“Come on Beth,” Edward said, taking my arm and pulling me out of my fathers grasp, into his equally strong one.
“Aw, but you haven’t met Prince Rupert…”
He squeezed my arm meaningfully and I turned to him, ‘Ow’ I mouthed. He rolled his eyes at me and pulled me to the other end of the hall; which was suddenly crowded with people.
“Any news?” He said; he didn’t need to lower his voice; the noise in the room was such that we wouldn’t be overheard.
“Well, Prince Rupert’s clearly with Charles, so’s father clearly. …”
“But I don’t see why he’d want to join so suddenly… maybe the King forced him to?”
“I wouldn’t put anything past the King.” He said ‘the king’ like a curse.
Chapter 4
Edward
Before I had time to ask Beth any further questions, trumpets rose outside of the gates. The King had arrived. I looked at Beth and she looked back, her eyes tight with fear. She took a step closer to me and laced her fingers through mine, “This is it,” She murmured to me. I squeezed her hand reassuringly.
“No going back now.” I muttered back.
The King made a grand entrance, a couple of pages ran in to hold the doors and make way. He then followed, flanked by two Noblemen, the rest of his Gentry followed behind him. He wore a feathered hat, its white plume curling over the brim. His hair lay on his shoulders, his moustached cut short as was the fashion. He wore a metal collar, with lace hanging over it, his cloak hanging casually from his shoulders. A blue stripe ran across his chest, his sleeves where red and made of a fine material. His dark brown boots pulled up to his knees, hiding his black trousers.
“Edmund!” He boomed, prancing over to where father stood.
“Charles,” My father smiled, he turned to us and beckoned. I sighed and walked towards them, Beth right next to me.
“Sir King,” I said, bowing, Beth bowed with me.
“Edward and Bethany, finally.” The King said holding out his hand to me, I took it and felt Beth tense beside me. I shook firmly and then released the leader of Britain.
“Is Ralph here?”
“No.” Father said quickly and I stared at him, hadn’t he told him? Had he not told the King our elder brother was with Parliament?
“What a shame, I wished to meet the young man.” Evidently not.
“Well Edmund I’m afraid we can’t stay long, we’re marching to London, but there’s rumours Parliament plans to stop us, and that’s why we’re pausing, we’re hoping to restock and rest before we confront them. We don’t know where they plan to stop us, but we doubt it’s in London; it’s just London can’t afford a siege at the moment.”
“Indeed they can’t, I’m glad I can help you on your journey old friend, come I have prepared a feast for you and your men.”
I followed behind the King, sitting next to him at the table, I gestured to Beth and she sat next to Father, Mother on her other side.
“So Edward, Edmund tells me you've taken an interest in politics.”
“Yes.” I answered.
“Excellent, we need more men like your father on our side.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, yes, don’t be modest boy; I’ve heard of how good you are on the field.”
He wanted me to fight for him. Field meant battlefield.
“Uh, yes well…”
“By the Gods she’s beautiful isn’t she?”
“What?”
“Your sister Bethany.” He was staring at her, his eyes longing.
“Um yes, did you not notice earlier?”
“No I didn’t take note of her, I was paying attention to your father, but she’s an angel! Surely you see that!”
“Oh I do.” How could I not? My sister was a radiant beauty, any man could see that. But maybe it wasn’t best for her if the King saw that.
“How’s your wife?”
“Oh fine, fine…” He was still staring at Beth.
Fortunately, just then, our father called a toast.
“To Charles, may his battles, be our battles, his losses, our losses, his successes, our successes, long live the King!”
“Long live the King!” cried the rest of the room.
“Let us eat.” Said the King.
And so we ate, I listened carefully to all of the King’s conversations trying to understand what his plans were. I was paying close attention to his most recent conversation; about raising a new tax, when someone kicked me hard under the table.
“Ow!” I hissed. I looked up into Beth’s horror struck face. She stared at me with pained eyes, fear and anger and despair swirling in her eyes as she sat there open mouthed in shock.
“Father, May I be excused?” I’d finished my food.
“Of course.” He didn’t even look at me; he was so engaged in conversation with the man sitting next to him. I jumped up, walked round to the other side of the table grabbed Beth, for she seemed unable to move and dragged her into the corridor.
“Beth, what is it?” She didn’t seem to hear me; she was so lost in fear.
“Beth!” I shook her slightly and her eyes focused on me.
“H-he’s going w-with h-him.” She said, her entire frame shaking as she squeaked the words.
“What? Who’s going with who?”
Her face crumpled into a mask of despair.
“Father’s going with him. He’s following our stupid good for nothing King to war. He’s going to go fight. And he knows they’re going to lose. They can’t beat the round heads. They can’t and he’s going to be standard bearer, he won’t be able to defend himself!”
“And they’ll be aiming for him, and he’ll not be able to defend himself, and he’s going with him!”
I froze and stared at her, the same sickening fear, hatred, despair and anger running through my body.
“He can’t” I gasped.
“He’s leaving in the morning.” She whispered, tears running down her cheeks.
“But why?” I gasped; I was suddenly finding it hard to breathe.
“It’s my duty.” We both turned to see father coming down the hall, he’d obviously noticed that Beth had been on the verge of breaking down.
“Father you can’t!” I cried, how could he do this to me? To Mother? To Beth? To Ralph? How could he fight against Ralph?
“I can and I will Edward. Wipe that look off your face, it is my duty and I will do it.”
“I hate you!” Screamed Beth, turning on her heels, running towards her room. I glared at father and ran after Beth.
“Beth!” I called, my vision was blurring at the edges and I was feeling awfully faint…
I entered her room and she threw herself at me, crying passionately into my shoulder.
“Why did he do it? Oh why oh why?” She sobbed.
“I don’t know.” My voice was quiet and scared.
And then something changed. Something snapped, but not inside me, inside Beth.
“I hate him!” She yelled, her voice no longer scared, but angry. “I hate the King! I hate Parliament! I hate this stupid war!” She screamed and I took a step backwards to look at her. She was still shaking, but now it seemed to be more of a cause of her rage.
And Beth in a rage was truly terrifying. Her red hair seemed to flow like fire, her eyes sparked with passionate hatred. And boy could she yell, her voice could carry over any crowd, and now she was using it at full throttle.
She paced angrily; her anger seething and I watched her. She’d only ever gotten this angry once before. When father had forbidden her to dress as a boy, climb, ride and do anything she actually enjoyed. The really terrifying thing was, I felt the same, beneath the fear and despair, and the shock was the only thing stopping me from flying into a storm like she had.
Had the King walked in now he would have been a dead man.
Chapter 5
Bethany
That night past in a blur, I eventually went to sleep, Edward left for his room around midnight. That night my sleep was deep and dreamless, by the morning a cold, hollow feeling had grown in my stomach.
I awoke just before dawn, as I always did, and was left with the knowledge my father was probably leaving right now, off to die in the King’s stupid war. And the last thing I’d said to him was ‘I hate you’.
I jumped up and ran to Edward’s room.
“Edward! Wake up!” I grabbed him and shook him until he woke up.
“Beth?” He asked.
“Father.” Was all I said but he understood. I had to find him, stop him, and say I was sorry.
“Let me get dressed.” He jumped up and began searching for clothes.
“No Edward, we have to go now, I bet they’ve already left!”
“Fine, go get the horses; I’ll be down in a moment.”
I had no time to argue with him so I fled down the corridors until I reached the stables. I got Edward’s horse out; I didn’t have my own horse so I grabbed another horse that was in the stall next to his.
I’d saddled mine and had moved onto Edward’s when I froze. A small bit of parchment was tucked into the stirrup. I unfolded the rich paper and stared at my father’s handwriting.
Edward
I have eaten his bread and served him near thirty years, and will not do so base a thing as to forsake him; and choose rather to lose my life (which I am sure to do) to preserve and defend those things which are against my conscience to preserve and defend.
Sir Edmund Verney. Your loving Father.
Father believed he was going to die.
‘…and choose rather to loose my life (which I am sure to do)…’
The fact that Father had actually accepted he was going to die seemed to make his fate definite. It was like the words on this parchment condemned him to die. This overwhelming sense of doom only made me more desperate to go to him. To save him, to stop him, and to apologise.
“Beth!” Edward called, running around the stable door, sword swinging at his hip, wearing riding boots. Crumbs. I’d have to ride side saddle, with no shoes I’d find riding astride extremely hard.
I held the note out to him, turning to finish saddling his horse.
I heard him sigh and he handed me the note again.
“I don’t need it.” I whispered.
“Beth.”
“I’ve already memorised every word.” I’d reread it at least ten times before he’d came in.
“Beth.”
I sighed and folded the note carefully, slipping into the small bag Edward offered me. Inside the bag was four apples, two slabs of bread and a goblet of water.
“How did you-”
“Ransacked the kitchen.”
“Of course.”
I slung the bag onto my horse before I mounted it. Edward mounted his horse and we trotted out of the stable.
“Main gate.” He said, and I followed him to the main gate, it was clear the army; and father undoubtedly, had left this way.
“Halt!” A guard cried.
I looked at Edward, he nodded back.
As the guard looked down at us in shock, we bolted through the doors, keeping up a steady gallop as we left our house, our estate and our lands far behind.
We followed the clear tracks of the King’s army for miles.
“How far behind do you think we are?”
“A couple of hours, but they have more men and not all are on horseback, they plan on ‘meeting’ Parliament close to Edgehill.”
“Will we make it before the battle begins?”
He didn’t answer and stared grimly at the road in front of them.
“Oh.” I sighed and stared miserably at my horse’s neck. We might be too late, why oh why hadn’t I woken up earlier! If we were too late… I wouldn’t let myself think that! I must hope, hope that my father wasn’t killed.
Chapter 6
Edward
As we approached Edgehill the sounds of battle reached us. Shrill cries, yells, swearing and the clash of sword on sword. The screams of the wounded and the harsh bellows of the officers trying to communicate with their troops. I turned to Beth and we looked at each other. I drew my sword and nodded at the battlefield.
“Beth, I’ll go find father. You stay here- no wait- Beth, you have no armour, you have no weapon, and you have no shoes! You can’t fight like that, not against trained soldiers!”
“You wear no armour either, I’m better at fighting than you and I’m coming whether or not you want me to.”
We glared at each other for a moment before a particularly loud scream came from the area of the battle. We both turned and began riding as fast as we could towards Edgehill.
When we reached the top of the hill I gasped as I saw the scene below us. Soldiers where engaged in battle, Parliament was rushing the King’s men and the King’s men where scattered everywhere. I searched frantically for Father but couldn’t see him, not from up here. We’d have to get closer to find him, and getting closer would be extremely dangerous. To make matters worse Beth would come with me and she’d be defenceless.
“Let’s go.” She hissed, anger and guilt, flavouring her voice.
“Please Beth?” She wouldn’t, I knew she wouldn’t.
She glared at me and started galloping towards the mass of fighting men.
I followed her quickly and sighed unhappily. This was it, life and death. There was nothing but luck stopping us from being killed. Luck and a bit of skill. Beth had better not die, otherwise I’d be doomed; I needed her, even though I shouldn’t. But all other thoughts where wiped from my mind as the first man attacked me, he was one of the King’s men, but that didn’t matter, all that mattered was staying alive and getting to Beth.
I fought him off, and quickly gave him the death stroke as I made my way to her. She wasn’t on her horse anymore; she was fighting two Roundheads with her bare hands, as I watched she dodged a blade and kicked at the man who’d swiped at her. She hit him in the chest and he fell backwards, grunting. Immediately she was on him, grabbing his sword and turning to her other opponent who I killed before she could fight him.
I killed another man who ran at me and gestured for her to jump on my horse. She did so and we began riding around the battlefield, fending of those who sought to fight us. We managed this until suddenly with a cry she jumped off the horse’s back. “Beth!” I yelled.
But she didn’t hear me, and I saw why. She’d seen father. Father who’d decided to fight without armour, who was clearly unarmed, who was fending off his opponents with the standard he was holding. Father who was a couple of meters away, but still too far for us to reach him easily.
He was losing, although he was a good sword fighter, he wasn’t doing so well with his makeshift pike. And I knew we had to get to him, get to him soon. Beth, whom was trying to reach him, was failing, there where just too many people fighting father. And as I watched my father staggered and disappeared from my view.
Beth screamed in rage and stabbed the man fending her away from the mass of men viciously; she then took his sword in her left hand and began slaughtering the men standing in our way. Her two swords cut and hacked at the men in her way, and I sat frozen in my saddle. She also disappeared from my view and I finally woke from my trance. I leapt from my horse, attacking the men around me, trying to find Beth and my father.
The soul of war took me. The adrenalin pumping through my veins fuelled my fighting, my mind was numb with fear and shock, the only thing on my mind was to find Father, find Beth, I didn’t care whose side I killed to get there, I just had to get there.
Everything and everyone passed in a blur, the smell and the noise blurring into the background as a haze came over my thoughts. The haze didn’t clear and I attacked almost blindly until I finally stumbled to a halt. My father and my sister standing in front of me.
Chapter 7
Bethany
I slashed and swiped at the men standing in my way, father needed help and I had to help him. I started attacking the men closest to me and kept on attacking until I reached father. His right hand had been slashed off; it clung pathetically to the standard where he’d been gripping it.
“Father!” I screamed, throwing myself in between him and his attackers, defending him from them. I managed to push us away from the main fight, until we where close to the edge of the battlefield. When I was sure we where safe I turned and looked at him.
He was shaking, blood soaked his clothes and his face was screwed up in pain. “Father!” I exclaimed.
He looked at me, the whites of his eyes gleaming in the dim light. And he didn’t see me. He was beyond that. He was in too much pain. As he stared his knees buckled and he collapsed. I squeaked in horror and dropped with him, grabbing his head and shoulders before they hit the ground.
I couldn’t say anything. My father was shaking and this may be the last chance to say I loved him and I didn’t say anything. I clutched him to me instead and sobbed. Tears and his blood rolled down my face. I wept for what seemed like hours until he finally muttered something.
“Bethany.” His voice was weak but I gasped in hope, maybe father wouldn’t die, his wounds weren’t fatal… But when I moved him to look into his eyes they weren’t bright and sharp as they always were. They where dead and blank. As I stared at him in horror I realised with a stab of pain that my father was dead.
I began crying hysterically and didn’t stop. At one point I realised Edward was with me, weeping also. But when the pain and shock finally became too much I welcomed the numbness of unconsciousness gracefully.
The sun woke me as it always did. The body of my father and the sleeping form of my brother was cast in shadow next to me. With the sleep had come a kind of acceptance. An acceptance that my father was dead, and I hated the King for it, I hated Parliament for it and I hated myself.
But as I stared at the remnants of the battlefield a new knowledge filled me. This war had brought so much death, so much pain, how may men had already died because of it? How many more would die? Before me stood the future, a future so full of pain and despair. Behind me stood the past and the memories of peace and serenity.
And then there was now. The battlefield in front of me was littered with the past, the death of so many men, some caused by me. And as I watched I saw. I saw the true sea of war. The depth and impossibilities of it. How so many could drown and only a few swim. Before me was the tides of war, the souls of those who’d died, washed to the shore, and they would be swept away, again, forgotten by the sea as another wave rolled over and another tide swept away.
As the tide came it in turn started to roll away. And it took with it the poor men who drowned. Never to swim or breathe again. The tide retreated all the way to the ocean. And the fallen sank to the floor, and awoke in heaven. To watch as another tide came and brought more to the floor. An endless cycle, that would continue so long as there where men.
As the tide left the dead left with it and I was left watching them go.
…
“And so sir that is when I last saw my father. When I watched his spirit ride away on the tide. That’s where my father is now, on the ocean floor, in heaven waiting for us to join him.”
…
Historical Note
Edmund Verney was born in 1590. He was elected to the House of Commons for Chipping Wycombe. Verney was critical of Charles I but on the outbreak of the Civil War Verney joined the Royalist forces. Sir Edmund Verney was killed at Edgehill in October, 1642.
In October, 1642, Charles I and his Royalist forces began marching on London. The Parliamentary army attempted to block their way and engaged the Royalists at Edgehill on 23rd October. It is estimated that both sides had around 14,000 men.
Verney demonstrates well the heart searching that went on before the outbreak of the Civil War. He had a long association with Charles I, having been his servant before he came to the throne (1613), and had maintained that relationship in the intervening years. By 1642 he had benefited from Charles's sales of monopolies, received a court pension, and had lent Charles large sums of money. However, he was also a Puritan, a MP, and a member of both the Short and Long parliaments, and was opposed to Charles's arbitrary measures during the Eleven Years Tyranny. Even his sons were split - his eldest son fought for Parliament (as did his older brother), while his two younger sons joined Verney and fought for the King. (Evidently Bethany succeeded in her pretence of being a boy.) Verney explained his decision to fight for the King in a letter, expressing motives common to many of Charles's supports.
I have eaten his bread and served him near thirty years, and will not do so base a thing as to forsake him; and choose rather to lose my life (which I am sure to do) to preserve and defend those things which are against my conscience to preserve and defend.
When war broke out, Verney was appointed to be the King's standard-bearer, but at the battle of Edgehill (23 October 1642), he was killed while engaged in intense hand to hand fighting, and the standard captured.
...
...
...
I wonder what my history teacher will think?
Hope i get a good mark :S
Yours Forever
-Sky
Summer falls,
Winter comes.
Like a spark the sky can light,
Colours fly,
Until the rise of night.
Cold,
Cold and bitter,
Snow,
*Snow ball fights yay!* (hehe oops, um ignore that....)
Urgh!
Lost it.
Had the poem going quite well though.
Ah well maybe another time.
Here's the story....
Prologue
The questioner sat back in his chair and stared at the woman clad in black, she glared at him as her sister wept on her shoulder. Jane Verney, wife of Sir Edmund Verney had refused to give him any information on her husband’s whereabouts. She’d also stopped her sister, Anne Verney, from answering their questions; the poor woman was reduced to tears in her sister’s shoulders.
“I am deeply sorry that you can not help us m’am,” Said the questioner, feeling deeply sorry. This was going too far, the war should be won on the battle field, not by questioning women and children. “I am forced to bring questioning to your children; bring them in.”
The woman and her sister fell back into the doorway, as the guard brought in the two children. Both looked roughly sixteen. As soon as they entered the room the boy stepped forwards, leaving his sister behind him.
“So, Mr Verney, I have some questions to ask you, first what is your age?”
“Fifteen.” The boy answered, but he answered not in that of a boy, but in a manner of a man.
“Your name?”
“Edward Verney.”
“Your sister’s?”
The girl took a step forward; the guard followed her, keeping an arm around her shoulders, in an almost patronizing way.
“Bethany Verney,” She answered, her tone also surprised him for it held the sureness and certainty of a true gentleman’s.
“Your age child?”
“Fifteen.”
“Do you know why you’re here?”
“I can guess,” She said coldly.
“You’re father is with the King.”
“Yes.” The boy answered this time.
“May I ask what you think of this.”
“My father is a clever and loyal man; that loyalty was to his life long friend; the King, although he may not agree with the King, he chose to help his friend. I think the King is a fool and a scut, who’s ruining the country. But I have not a word against my father.”
“And you Miss Verney?”
“My thoughts are the same.”
“We are with Parliament.”
“We noticed.” The boy said, nodding at the guard, clad in his Roundhead soberness.
“So naturally we are enemies.”
“I would think so; however I have no wish of fighting you.” The boy said.
“Why would you indeed? You are outnumbered.”
The girl laughed bitterly.
“You are mistaken my dear sir.”
“I am?”
“Edward and I could beat you with our eyes closed.”
“You fight?”
“I thought you would have realised that, given the nature of how you found us.”
“Indeed,” The questioner said, “But if you can beat us so, why do you stand there talking?”
“As Edward said, we have no wish of fighting you. We wish to choose a side, for we have realised that this war is too dangerous for us to remain neutral. Our older brother Ralph is with you, as we should be, but we want to consider the King’s side also, for we are no fools.” The girl smiled sadly at them.
“You think you’re here on your terms?”
“I know we’re here on our terms. We could have fled the field; we’d beaten your men. But instead we allowed ourselves to be escorted here.” The girl said.
“Well, I was under the impression you were here to be questioned by me.”
“Yes, we also have a question for you though.” The boy nodded at his sister.
“‘I have eaten his bread and served him near thirty years, and will not do so base a thing as to forsake him; and choose rather to lose my life (which I am sure to do) to preserve and defend those things which are against my conscience to preserve and defend’” The girl sighed, “My father wrote so in a letter to us.”
“So now I ask you, why should we fight for you when our loyalty lies with the king?”
“But you are too young to fight!”
“Yes, you would think so, however we have fought, and although we don’t intend to fight in any more wars, we wish to choose a side to support and help.”
“Well Parliament is stronger and we are right, so naturally we shall win.”
“‘And choose rather to lose my life (which I am sure to do) to preserve and defend those things which are against my conscience to preserve and defend’” The girl said mournfully.
“Please!” Cried the questioner, “Let me ask you my question!”
“Ask away sir.” The boy said.
“Is your uncle fighting for the King?”
“No Parliament.”
“And when did you last see your father?”
Chapter 1
Bethany
It was dawn. The sun’s golden rays crept through the dark gardens, reflecting off the fresh morning dew and spider webs. The roses gleamed red, the water droplets on their delicate petals glowing in the early morning light. A lark sang his mournful tune, until he was joined by another bird, and another. They chatted and sang and welcomed the new day.
Dawn was my favourite time of day. No one but the servants were awake, so I wouldn’t be missed. The best place to view the rising of the sun was on top of the bell tower; but since it was locked and very hard to climb to I couldn’t go there. Instead I had to make do with the roof of our estate.
I was risking a lot by being here. Not only was I sitting on the roof of one of the most expensive and important buildings in England, I was disobeying my father. My father has a dreadful temper. He is one of the king’s closest friends and supporters. He’s one of the richest men in England. And so I, his daughter, am expected to be a proper lady, who will marry a rich nobleman and bear many heirs.
As if.
I might have grown up to be a lady who sits at home and looks after her husband. If only I didn’t have a twin brother; Edward. Edward is everything a man should be, handsome, intelligent and strong. He enjoys hunting, riding, fighting and is quick witted. My father’s so proud. How does this affect me?
When we were younger we’d play together, the only children in a large household; though we’re still ‘children’ now I suppose, just not young children. He soon discovered that I was a good fighter, a trusty friend and an excellent playmate. Together we’d climb the trees’ in the gardens, have sword fights using sticks and go riding around the grounds.
My father was furious of course, a young girl, climbing trees! Ruining her dresses! Riding horses like a man! Fighting, and beating I should add; though he’d never admit it, his son and heir! So I was forbidden to climb, fight or ride ever again. Naturally I rebelled and did all of them anyway, with the help of Edward. Only now, I had to be more careful.
I’m easily recognised; a fifteen year old girl, with flaming red hair and ‘intense’ blue eyes. My features didn’t help much. I said my brother was handsome; well he’s a part of me, my other half. In more ways than one; we both got our fathers strong looks, not to mention his strong will. I had strong cheekbones and a high neck.
Unfortunately, I also got my mother’s beauty. I have her red hair and pale skin. I have her soft nose and perfect lips. The combination of my parent’s appearances resulted in me looking like ‘a unique beauty’. My uncle, another powerful and important man, on first seeing me exclaimed; ‘By the gods George! You have an angel in your hands!’
My parents are extremely pleased with my ‘beauty’; it’s guaranteed to get me a good husband. Ugh. I’d trade anything to be someone else.
But as I was saying, I’m easily recognised. So in order to get out by myself I had to dress as a servant. I dress in simple trousers and use a rope for a belt; I wear a small blouse and a jacket. My hair’s stuffed into a hat. I go about barefoot; mainly because I’ve yet to find suitable shoes.
A bit of mud and I can pass as a man.
That’s another problem. Women aren’t allowed to dress as men. I’d be severely punished if my father ever found out. Edward; the traitor, disapproved of me climbing up here every morning dressed as a man. So he wouldn’t come up here with me. As we get older Edward get’s more and more like our father. He’s intensely into politics and has started to show signs of wanting me to be more of a lady. Fortunately, I’m his favourite sparring partner so he won’t tell on me.
So here I sat, breaking every rule my father enforced, breaking quite a few laws as well. Just to see the sun rising, just to be alone, just to be free of everything happening below me. I sat waiting for the church bell to ring, telling me it was getting late.
Then the bell did ring, but not how I expected it to; the usual way it rang was once in the morning, to hold the morning communion; to pray to God and thank him for the new day. Once in the afternoon, and once in the evening. This time when the bell rang, it didn’t stop ringing. Which meant only one thing. Someone had died, someone very important had died.
Chapter 2
Edward
I ran. I ran like my life depended on it. I kept my head bent down, looking at the floor as I ran. I jumped over potholes and dogged between people in my path. I breathed raggedly and finally jogged to a stop outside the church. The bell was still ringing. I started to jog up the path when a young boy wearing servant’s clothes ran up next to me.
“Beth!” I hissed, grabbing her by the arm.
“Edward?” She gasped as I pulled her back.
I grabbed her and pulled her behind a tree, what was she doing? Did she want to get arrested? “What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.
“The same thing as you.” She snapped, glaring defiantly at me, I sighed, I knew that look, it was awfully like the one I used when I was going to have the last word. I sighed again, she was stubborn as hell, and I loved her for it, my sister, my twin.
“Beth, you have to get out of those clothes.”
“I want to know who died.” Of course she did, I did myself; our thoughts were often the same, and so I knew she wouldn’t give up until she knew who’d died.
“Beth, I’ll go in and find out. You go get changed, I’ll tell you, promise.” Knowing Beth she wouldn’t like that.
“I want to hear it for myself.” I knew her too well.
“Beth.” I groaned.
Just then the bell stopped ringing. We looked at each other in shock, then in unison we turned and ran towards the church. I couldn’t quite see her beside me but I felt her. I knew she was there, on my left, always at my back.
We flew into the church together, scattering quite a few people as we came in.
“Who is it?” Demanded Beth.
“Who is it?” I demanded.
Together we asked, “Who died?”
The man turned around and looked at us both.
“No one has died.” He said. He wasn’t our normal priest. He was dressed in white, he had on a golden pendant and rings coated his fingers, he was bulkier than Father John, and was very clearly not Father John. But as I looked around the church I noticed the obvious difference and groaned. I felt Beth tense beside me.
The priest’s lavish clothes, the churches new décor, it could only mean one thing.
“He didn’t.” She groaned.
“He did.” I muttered; an empty feeling started to consume me. He’d done it. Father had chosen his side. We’d been stalling as long as possible to try and see which side would be best to fight for. Personally I thought that Parliament had it right, our King was a vain sour-faced scut. However it was evident who father had wanted to support. He’d obviously made the decision to make it official.
It wasn’t surprising really; King Charles was one of Father’s closest friends. The only thing that had made him hesitate was common sense, being a politician he’d obviously realised how dangerous choosing Charles would be. That was all thrown out the window now, Father had chosen Charles and we’d have to live with it.
I heard Beth curse under her breath next to me.
“Why did you ring the bell if no one died?” I didn’t really care, the fact Father had finally made up his mind, and not told me was much more important.
“To celebrate the coming of the King,” He said in obvious surprise that we hadn’t realised this was the reason.
Beth choked and started coughing loudly to try and regain her breath.
“The King?” She squeaked, looking up with a look of absolute horror. Ah yes, Beth strongly agreed with me on the fact that the King shouldn’t be King. She didn’t like the way he was running the country, she’s surprisingly good with politics, for a girl anyway.
“Coming here?” She whispered.
“When?” I hissed, surprised that my voice resembled hers so much; hollow and raspy.
“Why he’s entering town right now,” Said the new Priest, sounding happy about it. Well whippy doo for him.
“Now?” Hissed Beth.
“Now.” He beamed.
I had turned and was running through the door as fast as I could, I had to find father! What I would do I didn’t know, but I had to do something! The King was coming here, had come here! Father hadn’t told me. The change in the church had happened today. It wouldn’t be the first change, and unless I did something soon all hope would be lost.
“Beth you have to get changed!” I yelled, she was running right beside me, she was a faster runner than me, she amazes me sometimes, so I knew she was deliberately keeping pace with me.
“There’s no time!” She shrieked back.
“For God’s sake! If Father sees you, if the King sees you you’ll be dead, worse than dead, Beth go get changed!”
She glared at me.
“Beth, please!” She was stubborn but she knew what would happen to us if the King found out. She’d go get changed.
“Don’t do anything without me.” She frowned slightly then sped up remarkably; how she managed it I have no idea, I was running my fastest… at that pace she’d reach the ‘house’ before me.
Chapter 3
Bethany
I ran as fast as I could, I reached home in record timing and began sprinting through endless corridors, why did this place have to be so big! I finally reached my rooms and bolted in to find my maidservant Anne cleaning my room. She turned and stared at me, “Can I help you?” She asked.
Oh distempered dog-hearted clotpoles.
“The master wishes to see you,” I said, lowering my voice so that she I didn’t sound like a girl so much.
“Sir Verney? Why?” She simpered.
I coughed like I’d seen Edward cough, “Not my business to say, m’am.” I added for extra benefit, I’d never called anyone, let alone a servant m’am before, hah my father’d have a fit!
“Go tell him I’m unavailable, that I’ll be with him as soon as I can.” She said in a flustered voice.
“But m’am…”
“Go!”
I turned and ran around the corner, I then watched her run out of my room and down into the servants quarters.
Voices from behind me made me turn and I gasped in shock, my father was walking up the hall. With him was a man clad in royalist clothes, he wasn’t the king but he was clearly with him. I strained my ears and heard my father say; “Yes, she’s usually up by now, I’m sure Charles will love her…”
Her. Her could only mean one person. Me.
I ran into my room, locking the door and hurriedly started undressing, curse it! Where had I put my blue dress! It was the only one I liked; it was simple and didn’t show off my figure. I couldn’t find it and I could hear my father’s voice approaching my room. I grabbed a rich, not to mention heavy, yellow dress, I managed to pull it on and I sprinted, as well as I could in this thing, to my mirror. I stared at my dirty and dishevelled hair. I washed my face until my cheeks were red and then started pulling the comb through my hair.
Two knocks on my door, made me pause a second before I started brushing my hair at an even faster pace.
“Bethany?” Father called.
“Yes father?” I called back, my voice almost breaking.
“Come out dear, we have guests.”
“I know,” I muttered under my breath. “Coming!” I cried, pining my hair up, some of it fell down again and I groaned, I grabbed a yellow ribbon and tied it over the pin. I stared at my reflection; a strikingly beautiful girl stared back. I sighed unhappily. My mussed hair actually made my features look even better. Great. This was going to be horrible.
“Bethany-” My father began again, but I pulled the door open.
“Father,” I said, curtseying and bowing my head, before I looked up again.
“Beth, this is Prince Rupert, he is here escorting the King.”
“Sir,” I said holding out my hand, he looked shocked but quickly recovered, bending to kiss my hand and then turned to my father. My father shot a pleased glance at me, he obviously thought, I’d wanted Prince what’s his name to kiss my hand, ew. I’d meant for him to shake it.
“Edmund, your daughter is beautiful, and a proper lady at that,” He nodded at me, “Shall we proceed to the gates, I do believe Charles will be arriving soon.”
“Yes lets,” Father glared at me meaningfully, I scowled at him, but then said, in my best ‘lady’ voice (which was actually very good) “Of coarse, sorry to have delayed you.”
“No problem milady.” Said the Prince. Hmph, Milady. Hah, if only they’d seen my five minutes ago.
Father, seeing my reluctance to go, grabbed my arm and dragged my along beside him, I scowled horribly at him and he smiled knowingly back. My father knew me almost as well as Edward did. The almost being he didn’t know I ran around pretending to be a male servant.
We entered the hall, just as Edward did; he sprinted in, paused for a second, looked at me frantically and saw how father had trapped me by holding my arm. He saw we had ‘company’ and straightened, he then walked swiftly to father.
“Father.” He said stiffly.
“Ah you must be Edward, your father speaks of you often, and it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
I gagged, as I tried to repress giggles, I could imagine how Edward would respond to that; an absolute stranger, clad in royalist clothes, saying it was a pleasure to meet him. Pleasure!
“Pleasure.” Muttered Edward, glaring at me as I shook with silent laughter.
“Yes I’m sure Edward’s absolutely delighted with your visit.” I sniggered.
“Come on Beth,” Edward said, taking my arm and pulling me out of my fathers grasp, into his equally strong one.
“Aw, but you haven’t met Prince Rupert…”
He squeezed my arm meaningfully and I turned to him, ‘Ow’ I mouthed. He rolled his eyes at me and pulled me to the other end of the hall; which was suddenly crowded with people.
“Any news?” He said; he didn’t need to lower his voice; the noise in the room was such that we wouldn’t be overheard.
“Well, Prince Rupert’s clearly with Charles, so’s father clearly. …”
“But I don’t see why he’d want to join so suddenly… maybe the King forced him to?”
“I wouldn’t put anything past the King.” He said ‘the king’ like a curse.
Chapter 4
Edward
Before I had time to ask Beth any further questions, trumpets rose outside of the gates. The King had arrived. I looked at Beth and she looked back, her eyes tight with fear. She took a step closer to me and laced her fingers through mine, “This is it,” She murmured to me. I squeezed her hand reassuringly.
“No going back now.” I muttered back.
The King made a grand entrance, a couple of pages ran in to hold the doors and make way. He then followed, flanked by two Noblemen, the rest of his Gentry followed behind him. He wore a feathered hat, its white plume curling over the brim. His hair lay on his shoulders, his moustached cut short as was the fashion. He wore a metal collar, with lace hanging over it, his cloak hanging casually from his shoulders. A blue stripe ran across his chest, his sleeves where red and made of a fine material. His dark brown boots pulled up to his knees, hiding his black trousers.
“Edmund!” He boomed, prancing over to where father stood.
“Charles,” My father smiled, he turned to us and beckoned. I sighed and walked towards them, Beth right next to me.
“Sir King,” I said, bowing, Beth bowed with me.
“Edward and Bethany, finally.” The King said holding out his hand to me, I took it and felt Beth tense beside me. I shook firmly and then released the leader of Britain.
“Is Ralph here?”
“No.” Father said quickly and I stared at him, hadn’t he told him? Had he not told the King our elder brother was with Parliament?
“What a shame, I wished to meet the young man.” Evidently not.
“Well Edmund I’m afraid we can’t stay long, we’re marching to London, but there’s rumours Parliament plans to stop us, and that’s why we’re pausing, we’re hoping to restock and rest before we confront them. We don’t know where they plan to stop us, but we doubt it’s in London; it’s just London can’t afford a siege at the moment.”
“Indeed they can’t, I’m glad I can help you on your journey old friend, come I have prepared a feast for you and your men.”
I followed behind the King, sitting next to him at the table, I gestured to Beth and she sat next to Father, Mother on her other side.
“So Edward, Edmund tells me you've taken an interest in politics.”
“Yes.” I answered.
“Excellent, we need more men like your father on our side.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, yes, don’t be modest boy; I’ve heard of how good you are on the field.”
He wanted me to fight for him. Field meant battlefield.
“Uh, yes well…”
“By the Gods she’s beautiful isn’t she?”
“What?”
“Your sister Bethany.” He was staring at her, his eyes longing.
“Um yes, did you not notice earlier?”
“No I didn’t take note of her, I was paying attention to your father, but she’s an angel! Surely you see that!”
“Oh I do.” How could I not? My sister was a radiant beauty, any man could see that. But maybe it wasn’t best for her if the King saw that.
“How’s your wife?”
“Oh fine, fine…” He was still staring at Beth.
Fortunately, just then, our father called a toast.
“To Charles, may his battles, be our battles, his losses, our losses, his successes, our successes, long live the King!”
“Long live the King!” cried the rest of the room.
“Let us eat.” Said the King.
And so we ate, I listened carefully to all of the King’s conversations trying to understand what his plans were. I was paying close attention to his most recent conversation; about raising a new tax, when someone kicked me hard under the table.
“Ow!” I hissed. I looked up into Beth’s horror struck face. She stared at me with pained eyes, fear and anger and despair swirling in her eyes as she sat there open mouthed in shock.
“Father, May I be excused?” I’d finished my food.
“Of course.” He didn’t even look at me; he was so engaged in conversation with the man sitting next to him. I jumped up, walked round to the other side of the table grabbed Beth, for she seemed unable to move and dragged her into the corridor.
“Beth, what is it?” She didn’t seem to hear me; she was so lost in fear.
“Beth!” I shook her slightly and her eyes focused on me.
“H-he’s going w-with h-him.” She said, her entire frame shaking as she squeaked the words.
“What? Who’s going with who?”
Her face crumpled into a mask of despair.
“Father’s going with him. He’s following our stupid good for nothing King to war. He’s going to go fight. And he knows they’re going to lose. They can’t beat the round heads. They can’t and he’s going to be standard bearer, he won’t be able to defend himself!”
“And they’ll be aiming for him, and he’ll not be able to defend himself, and he’s going with him!”
I froze and stared at her, the same sickening fear, hatred, despair and anger running through my body.
“He can’t” I gasped.
“He’s leaving in the morning.” She whispered, tears running down her cheeks.
“But why?” I gasped; I was suddenly finding it hard to breathe.
“It’s my duty.” We both turned to see father coming down the hall, he’d obviously noticed that Beth had been on the verge of breaking down.
“Father you can’t!” I cried, how could he do this to me? To Mother? To Beth? To Ralph? How could he fight against Ralph?
“I can and I will Edward. Wipe that look off your face, it is my duty and I will do it.”
“I hate you!” Screamed Beth, turning on her heels, running towards her room. I glared at father and ran after Beth.
“Beth!” I called, my vision was blurring at the edges and I was feeling awfully faint…
I entered her room and she threw herself at me, crying passionately into my shoulder.
“Why did he do it? Oh why oh why?” She sobbed.
“I don’t know.” My voice was quiet and scared.
And then something changed. Something snapped, but not inside me, inside Beth.
“I hate him!” She yelled, her voice no longer scared, but angry. “I hate the King! I hate Parliament! I hate this stupid war!” She screamed and I took a step backwards to look at her. She was still shaking, but now it seemed to be more of a cause of her rage.
And Beth in a rage was truly terrifying. Her red hair seemed to flow like fire, her eyes sparked with passionate hatred. And boy could she yell, her voice could carry over any crowd, and now she was using it at full throttle.
She paced angrily; her anger seething and I watched her. She’d only ever gotten this angry once before. When father had forbidden her to dress as a boy, climb, ride and do anything she actually enjoyed. The really terrifying thing was, I felt the same, beneath the fear and despair, and the shock was the only thing stopping me from flying into a storm like she had.
Had the King walked in now he would have been a dead man.
Chapter 5
Bethany
That night past in a blur, I eventually went to sleep, Edward left for his room around midnight. That night my sleep was deep and dreamless, by the morning a cold, hollow feeling had grown in my stomach.
I awoke just before dawn, as I always did, and was left with the knowledge my father was probably leaving right now, off to die in the King’s stupid war. And the last thing I’d said to him was ‘I hate you’.
I jumped up and ran to Edward’s room.
“Edward! Wake up!” I grabbed him and shook him until he woke up.
“Beth?” He asked.
“Father.” Was all I said but he understood. I had to find him, stop him, and say I was sorry.
“Let me get dressed.” He jumped up and began searching for clothes.
“No Edward, we have to go now, I bet they’ve already left!”
“Fine, go get the horses; I’ll be down in a moment.”
I had no time to argue with him so I fled down the corridors until I reached the stables. I got Edward’s horse out; I didn’t have my own horse so I grabbed another horse that was in the stall next to his.
I’d saddled mine and had moved onto Edward’s when I froze. A small bit of parchment was tucked into the stirrup. I unfolded the rich paper and stared at my father’s handwriting.
Edward
I have eaten his bread and served him near thirty years, and will not do so base a thing as to forsake him; and choose rather to lose my life (which I am sure to do) to preserve and defend those things which are against my conscience to preserve and defend.
Sir Edmund Verney. Your loving Father.
Father believed he was going to die.
‘…and choose rather to loose my life (which I am sure to do)…’
The fact that Father had actually accepted he was going to die seemed to make his fate definite. It was like the words on this parchment condemned him to die. This overwhelming sense of doom only made me more desperate to go to him. To save him, to stop him, and to apologise.
“Beth!” Edward called, running around the stable door, sword swinging at his hip, wearing riding boots. Crumbs. I’d have to ride side saddle, with no shoes I’d find riding astride extremely hard.
I held the note out to him, turning to finish saddling his horse.
I heard him sigh and he handed me the note again.
“I don’t need it.” I whispered.
“Beth.”
“I’ve already memorised every word.” I’d reread it at least ten times before he’d came in.
“Beth.”
I sighed and folded the note carefully, slipping into the small bag Edward offered me. Inside the bag was four apples, two slabs of bread and a goblet of water.
“How did you-”
“Ransacked the kitchen.”
“Of course.”
I slung the bag onto my horse before I mounted it. Edward mounted his horse and we trotted out of the stable.
“Main gate.” He said, and I followed him to the main gate, it was clear the army; and father undoubtedly, had left this way.
“Halt!” A guard cried.
I looked at Edward, he nodded back.
As the guard looked down at us in shock, we bolted through the doors, keeping up a steady gallop as we left our house, our estate and our lands far behind.
We followed the clear tracks of the King’s army for miles.
“How far behind do you think we are?”
“A couple of hours, but they have more men and not all are on horseback, they plan on ‘meeting’ Parliament close to Edgehill.”
“Will we make it before the battle begins?”
He didn’t answer and stared grimly at the road in front of them.
“Oh.” I sighed and stared miserably at my horse’s neck. We might be too late, why oh why hadn’t I woken up earlier! If we were too late… I wouldn’t let myself think that! I must hope, hope that my father wasn’t killed.
Chapter 6
Edward
As we approached Edgehill the sounds of battle reached us. Shrill cries, yells, swearing and the clash of sword on sword. The screams of the wounded and the harsh bellows of the officers trying to communicate with their troops. I turned to Beth and we looked at each other. I drew my sword and nodded at the battlefield.
“Beth, I’ll go find father. You stay here- no wait- Beth, you have no armour, you have no weapon, and you have no shoes! You can’t fight like that, not against trained soldiers!”
“You wear no armour either, I’m better at fighting than you and I’m coming whether or not you want me to.”
We glared at each other for a moment before a particularly loud scream came from the area of the battle. We both turned and began riding as fast as we could towards Edgehill.
When we reached the top of the hill I gasped as I saw the scene below us. Soldiers where engaged in battle, Parliament was rushing the King’s men and the King’s men where scattered everywhere. I searched frantically for Father but couldn’t see him, not from up here. We’d have to get closer to find him, and getting closer would be extremely dangerous. To make matters worse Beth would come with me and she’d be defenceless.
“Let’s go.” She hissed, anger and guilt, flavouring her voice.
“Please Beth?” She wouldn’t, I knew she wouldn’t.
She glared at me and started galloping towards the mass of fighting men.
I followed her quickly and sighed unhappily. This was it, life and death. There was nothing but luck stopping us from being killed. Luck and a bit of skill. Beth had better not die, otherwise I’d be doomed; I needed her, even though I shouldn’t. But all other thoughts where wiped from my mind as the first man attacked me, he was one of the King’s men, but that didn’t matter, all that mattered was staying alive and getting to Beth.
I fought him off, and quickly gave him the death stroke as I made my way to her. She wasn’t on her horse anymore; she was fighting two Roundheads with her bare hands, as I watched she dodged a blade and kicked at the man who’d swiped at her. She hit him in the chest and he fell backwards, grunting. Immediately she was on him, grabbing his sword and turning to her other opponent who I killed before she could fight him.
I killed another man who ran at me and gestured for her to jump on my horse. She did so and we began riding around the battlefield, fending of those who sought to fight us. We managed this until suddenly with a cry she jumped off the horse’s back. “Beth!” I yelled.
But she didn’t hear me, and I saw why. She’d seen father. Father who’d decided to fight without armour, who was clearly unarmed, who was fending off his opponents with the standard he was holding. Father who was a couple of meters away, but still too far for us to reach him easily.
He was losing, although he was a good sword fighter, he wasn’t doing so well with his makeshift pike. And I knew we had to get to him, get to him soon. Beth, whom was trying to reach him, was failing, there where just too many people fighting father. And as I watched my father staggered and disappeared from my view.
Beth screamed in rage and stabbed the man fending her away from the mass of men viciously; she then took his sword in her left hand and began slaughtering the men standing in our way. Her two swords cut and hacked at the men in her way, and I sat frozen in my saddle. She also disappeared from my view and I finally woke from my trance. I leapt from my horse, attacking the men around me, trying to find Beth and my father.
The soul of war took me. The adrenalin pumping through my veins fuelled my fighting, my mind was numb with fear and shock, the only thing on my mind was to find Father, find Beth, I didn’t care whose side I killed to get there, I just had to get there.
Everything and everyone passed in a blur, the smell and the noise blurring into the background as a haze came over my thoughts. The haze didn’t clear and I attacked almost blindly until I finally stumbled to a halt. My father and my sister standing in front of me.
Chapter 7
Bethany
I slashed and swiped at the men standing in my way, father needed help and I had to help him. I started attacking the men closest to me and kept on attacking until I reached father. His right hand had been slashed off; it clung pathetically to the standard where he’d been gripping it.
“Father!” I screamed, throwing myself in between him and his attackers, defending him from them. I managed to push us away from the main fight, until we where close to the edge of the battlefield. When I was sure we where safe I turned and looked at him.
He was shaking, blood soaked his clothes and his face was screwed up in pain. “Father!” I exclaimed.
He looked at me, the whites of his eyes gleaming in the dim light. And he didn’t see me. He was beyond that. He was in too much pain. As he stared his knees buckled and he collapsed. I squeaked in horror and dropped with him, grabbing his head and shoulders before they hit the ground.
I couldn’t say anything. My father was shaking and this may be the last chance to say I loved him and I didn’t say anything. I clutched him to me instead and sobbed. Tears and his blood rolled down my face. I wept for what seemed like hours until he finally muttered something.
“Bethany.” His voice was weak but I gasped in hope, maybe father wouldn’t die, his wounds weren’t fatal… But when I moved him to look into his eyes they weren’t bright and sharp as they always were. They where dead and blank. As I stared at him in horror I realised with a stab of pain that my father was dead.
I began crying hysterically and didn’t stop. At one point I realised Edward was with me, weeping also. But when the pain and shock finally became too much I welcomed the numbness of unconsciousness gracefully.
The sun woke me as it always did. The body of my father and the sleeping form of my brother was cast in shadow next to me. With the sleep had come a kind of acceptance. An acceptance that my father was dead, and I hated the King for it, I hated Parliament for it and I hated myself.
But as I stared at the remnants of the battlefield a new knowledge filled me. This war had brought so much death, so much pain, how may men had already died because of it? How many more would die? Before me stood the future, a future so full of pain and despair. Behind me stood the past and the memories of peace and serenity.
And then there was now. The battlefield in front of me was littered with the past, the death of so many men, some caused by me. And as I watched I saw. I saw the true sea of war. The depth and impossibilities of it. How so many could drown and only a few swim. Before me was the tides of war, the souls of those who’d died, washed to the shore, and they would be swept away, again, forgotten by the sea as another wave rolled over and another tide swept away.
As the tide came it in turn started to roll away. And it took with it the poor men who drowned. Never to swim or breathe again. The tide retreated all the way to the ocean. And the fallen sank to the floor, and awoke in heaven. To watch as another tide came and brought more to the floor. An endless cycle, that would continue so long as there where men.
As the tide left the dead left with it and I was left watching them go.
…
“And so sir that is when I last saw my father. When I watched his spirit ride away on the tide. That’s where my father is now, on the ocean floor, in heaven waiting for us to join him.”
…
Historical Note
Edmund Verney was born in 1590. He was elected to the House of Commons for Chipping Wycombe. Verney was critical of Charles I but on the outbreak of the Civil War Verney joined the Royalist forces. Sir Edmund Verney was killed at Edgehill in October, 1642.
In October, 1642, Charles I and his Royalist forces began marching on London. The Parliamentary army attempted to block their way and engaged the Royalists at Edgehill on 23rd October. It is estimated that both sides had around 14,000 men.
Verney demonstrates well the heart searching that went on before the outbreak of the Civil War. He had a long association with Charles I, having been his servant before he came to the throne (1613), and had maintained that relationship in the intervening years. By 1642 he had benefited from Charles's sales of monopolies, received a court pension, and had lent Charles large sums of money. However, he was also a Puritan, a MP, and a member of both the Short and Long parliaments, and was opposed to Charles's arbitrary measures during the Eleven Years Tyranny. Even his sons were split - his eldest son fought for Parliament (as did his older brother), while his two younger sons joined Verney and fought for the King. (Evidently Bethany succeeded in her pretence of being a boy.) Verney explained his decision to fight for the King in a letter, expressing motives common to many of Charles's supports.
I have eaten his bread and served him near thirty years, and will not do so base a thing as to forsake him; and choose rather to lose my life (which I am sure to do) to preserve and defend those things which are against my conscience to preserve and defend.
When war broke out, Verney was appointed to be the King's standard-bearer, but at the battle of Edgehill (23 October 1642), he was killed while engaged in intense hand to hand fighting, and the standard captured.
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I wonder what my history teacher will think?
Hope i get a good mark :S
Yours Forever
-Sky
Tuesday 4 November 2008
Photoshhoping
I went shopping for photos and above is the result :D
Lol thats's all fornow
Yours Forver
-Sky
Saturday 1 November 2008
Heheh.... Story!
Lol,
Here's a story i'm writing (it's not finished yet) for my history project.
I know; my teachers seem to be setting loads of story essays!
Oh well,
Prologue
The questioner sat back in his chair and stared at the woman clad in black, she glared at him as her sister wept on her shoulder. Jane Verney, wife of Sir Edmund Verney had refused to give him any information on her husband’s whereabouts. She’d also stopped her sister, Anne Verney, from answering their questions; the poor woman was reduced to tears in her sister’s shoulders.
“I am deeply sorry that you can not help us m’am,” Said the questioner, feeling deeply sorry. This was going too far, the war should be won on the battle field, not by questioning women and children. “I am forced to bring questioning to your children; bring them in.”
The woman and her sister fell back into the doorway, as the guard brought in the two children. Both looked roughly sixteen. As soon as they entered the room the boy stepped forwards, leaving his sister behind him.
“So, Mr Verney, I have some questions to ask you, first what is your age?”
“Fifteen.” The boy answered, but he answered not in that of a boy, but in a manner of a man.
“Your name?”
“Edward Verney.”
“Your sister’s?”
The girl took a step forward; the guard followed her, keeping an arm around her shoulders, in an almost patronizing way.
“Bethany Verney,” She answered, her tone also surprised him for it held the sureness and certainty of a true gentleman’s.
“Your age child?”
“Fifteen.”
“Do you know why you’re here?”
“I can guess,” She said coldly.
“You’re father is with the King.”
“Yes.” The boy answered this time.
“May I ask what you think of this.”
“My father is a clever and loyal man; that loyalty was to his life long friend; the King, although he may not agree with the King, he chose to help his friend. I think the King is a fool and a scut, who’s ruining the country. But I have not a word against my father.”
“And you Miss Verney?”
“My thoughts are the same.”
“We are with Parliament.”
“We noticed.” The boy said, nodding at the guard, clad in his Roundhead soberness.
“So naturally we are enemies.”
“I would think so, however I have no wish of fighting you.” The boy said.
“Why would you indeed? You are outnumbered.”
The girl laughed bitterly.
“You are mistaken my dear sir.”
“I am?”
“Edward and I could beat you with our eyes closed.”
“You fight?”
“I thought you would have realised that, given the nature of how you found us.”
“Indeed,” The questioner said, “But if you can beat us so, why do you stand there talking?”
“As Edward said, we have no wish of fighting you. We wish to choose a side, for we have realised that this war is too dangerous for us to remain neutral. Our older brother Ralph is with you, as we should be, but we want to consider the King’s side also, for we are no fools.” The girl smiled sadly at them.
“You think you’re here on your terms?”
“I know we’re here on our terms. We could have fled the field, we’d beaten your men. But instead we allowed ourselves to be escorted here.” The girl said.
“Well, I was under the impression you were here to be questioned by me.”
“Yes, we also have a question for you though.” The boy nodded at his sister.
“‘I have eaten his bread and served him near thirty years, and will not do so base a thing as to forsake him; and choose rather to lose my life (which I am sure to do) to preserve and defend those things which are against my conscience to preserve and defend’” The girl sighed, “My father wrote so in a letter to us.”
“So now I ask you, why should we fight for you when our loyalty lies with the king?”
“But you are too young to fight!”
“Yes, you would think so, however we have fought, and although we don’t intend to fight in any more wars, we wish to choose a side to support and help.”
“Well Parliament is stronger and we are right, so naturally we shall win.”
“‘And choose rather to lose my life (which I am sure to do) to preserve and defend those things which are against my conscience to preserve and defend’” The girl said mournfully.
“Please!” Cried the questioner, “Let me ask you my question!”
“Ask away sir.” The boy said.
“Is your uncle fighting for the King?”
“No Parliament.”
“And when did you last see your father?”
Chapter 1
It was dawn. The sun’s golden rays crept through the dark gardens, reflecting off the fresh morning dew and spider webs. The roses gleamed red, the water droplets on their delicate petals glowing in the early morning light. A lark sang his mournful tune, until he was joined by another bird, and another. They chatted and sang and welcomed the new day.
Dawn was my favourite time of day. No one but the servants were awake, so I wouldn’t be missed. The best place to view the rising of the sun was on top of the bell tower; but since it was locked and very hard to climb to I couldn’t go there. Instead I had to make do with the roof of our estate.
I was risking a lot by being here. Not only was I sitting on the roof of one of the most expensive and important buildings in England, I was disobeying my father. My father has a dreadful temper. He is one of the king’s closest friends and supporters. He’s one of the richest men in England. And so I, his daughter, am expected to be a proper lady, who will marry a rich nobleman and bear many heirs.
As if.
I might have grown up to be a lady who sits at home and looks after her husband. If only I didn’t have a twin brother; Edward. Edward is everything a man should be, handsome, intelligent and strong. He enjoys hunting, riding, fighting and is quick witted. My father’s so proud. How does this affect me?
When we were younger we’d play together, the only children in a large household; though we’re still children now I suppose, just not young children. He soon discovered that I was a good fighter, a trusty friend and an excellent playmate. Together we’d climb the trees’ in the gardens, have sword fights using sticks and go riding around the grounds.
My father was furious of course, a young girl, climbing trees! Ruining her dresses! Riding horses like a man! Fighting, and beating I should add; though he’d never admit it, his son and heir! So I was forbidden to climb, fight or ride ever again. Naturally I rebelled and did all of them anyway, with the help of Edward. Only now, I had to be more careful.
I’m easily recognised; a fifteen year old girl, with flaming red hair and ‘intense’ blue eyes. My features didn’t help much. I said my brother was handsome; well he’s a part of me, my other half. In more ways than one; we both got our fathers strong looks, not to mention his strong will. I had strong cheekbones and a high neck.
Unfortunately, I also got my mother’s beauty. I have her red hair and pale skin. I have her soft nose and perfect lips. The combination of my parent’s appearances resulted in me looking like ‘a unique beauty’. My uncle, another powerful and important man, on first seeing me exclaimed; ‘By the gods George! You have an angel in your hands!’
My parents are extremely pleased with my ‘beauty’; it’s guaranteed to get me a good husband. Ugh. I’d trade anything to be someone else.
But as I was saying, I’m easily recognised. So in order to get out by myself I had to dress as a servant. I dress in simple trousers and use a rope for a belt; I wear a small blouse and a jacket. My hair’s stuffed into a hat. I go about barefoot; mainly because I’ve yet to find suitable shoes.
A bit of mud and I can pass as a man.
That’s another problem. Women aren’t allowed to dress as men. I’d be severely punished if my father ever found out. Edward; the traitor, disapproved of me climbing up here every morning dressed as a man. So he wouldn’t come up here with me. As we get older Edward get’s more and more like our father. He’s intensely into politics and has started to show signs of wanting me to be more of a lady. Fortunately, I’m his favourite sparring partner so he won’t tell on me.
So here I sat, breaking every rule my father enforced, breaking quite a few laws as well. Just to see the sun rising, just to be alone, just to be free of everything happening below me. So there I sat waiting for the church bell to ring, telling me it was getting late.
Then the bell did ring, but not how I expected it to. The usual way it rang was once in the morning, to hold the morning communion; to pray to God and thank him for the new day. Once in the afternoon, and once in the evening. This time when the bell rang, it didn’t stop ringing. Which meant only one thing. Someone had died, someone very important had died.
Um, i've written up to chapter 5, but i decided not to post it all; it's a bit long....
Yours Forever
-Sky
Here's a story i'm writing (it's not finished yet) for my history project.
I know; my teachers seem to be setting loads of story essays!
Oh well,
Prologue
The questioner sat back in his chair and stared at the woman clad in black, she glared at him as her sister wept on her shoulder. Jane Verney, wife of Sir Edmund Verney had refused to give him any information on her husband’s whereabouts. She’d also stopped her sister, Anne Verney, from answering their questions; the poor woman was reduced to tears in her sister’s shoulders.
“I am deeply sorry that you can not help us m’am,” Said the questioner, feeling deeply sorry. This was going too far, the war should be won on the battle field, not by questioning women and children. “I am forced to bring questioning to your children; bring them in.”
The woman and her sister fell back into the doorway, as the guard brought in the two children. Both looked roughly sixteen. As soon as they entered the room the boy stepped forwards, leaving his sister behind him.
“So, Mr Verney, I have some questions to ask you, first what is your age?”
“Fifteen.” The boy answered, but he answered not in that of a boy, but in a manner of a man.
“Your name?”
“Edward Verney.”
“Your sister’s?”
The girl took a step forward; the guard followed her, keeping an arm around her shoulders, in an almost patronizing way.
“Bethany Verney,” She answered, her tone also surprised him for it held the sureness and certainty of a true gentleman’s.
“Your age child?”
“Fifteen.”
“Do you know why you’re here?”
“I can guess,” She said coldly.
“You’re father is with the King.”
“Yes.” The boy answered this time.
“May I ask what you think of this.”
“My father is a clever and loyal man; that loyalty was to his life long friend; the King, although he may not agree with the King, he chose to help his friend. I think the King is a fool and a scut, who’s ruining the country. But I have not a word against my father.”
“And you Miss Verney?”
“My thoughts are the same.”
“We are with Parliament.”
“We noticed.” The boy said, nodding at the guard, clad in his Roundhead soberness.
“So naturally we are enemies.”
“I would think so, however I have no wish of fighting you.” The boy said.
“Why would you indeed? You are outnumbered.”
The girl laughed bitterly.
“You are mistaken my dear sir.”
“I am?”
“Edward and I could beat you with our eyes closed.”
“You fight?”
“I thought you would have realised that, given the nature of how you found us.”
“Indeed,” The questioner said, “But if you can beat us so, why do you stand there talking?”
“As Edward said, we have no wish of fighting you. We wish to choose a side, for we have realised that this war is too dangerous for us to remain neutral. Our older brother Ralph is with you, as we should be, but we want to consider the King’s side also, for we are no fools.” The girl smiled sadly at them.
“You think you’re here on your terms?”
“I know we’re here on our terms. We could have fled the field, we’d beaten your men. But instead we allowed ourselves to be escorted here.” The girl said.
“Well, I was under the impression you were here to be questioned by me.”
“Yes, we also have a question for you though.” The boy nodded at his sister.
“‘I have eaten his bread and served him near thirty years, and will not do so base a thing as to forsake him; and choose rather to lose my life (which I am sure to do) to preserve and defend those things which are against my conscience to preserve and defend’” The girl sighed, “My father wrote so in a letter to us.”
“So now I ask you, why should we fight for you when our loyalty lies with the king?”
“But you are too young to fight!”
“Yes, you would think so, however we have fought, and although we don’t intend to fight in any more wars, we wish to choose a side to support and help.”
“Well Parliament is stronger and we are right, so naturally we shall win.”
“‘And choose rather to lose my life (which I am sure to do) to preserve and defend those things which are against my conscience to preserve and defend’” The girl said mournfully.
“Please!” Cried the questioner, “Let me ask you my question!”
“Ask away sir.” The boy said.
“Is your uncle fighting for the King?”
“No Parliament.”
“And when did you last see your father?”
Chapter 1
It was dawn. The sun’s golden rays crept through the dark gardens, reflecting off the fresh morning dew and spider webs. The roses gleamed red, the water droplets on their delicate petals glowing in the early morning light. A lark sang his mournful tune, until he was joined by another bird, and another. They chatted and sang and welcomed the new day.
Dawn was my favourite time of day. No one but the servants were awake, so I wouldn’t be missed. The best place to view the rising of the sun was on top of the bell tower; but since it was locked and very hard to climb to I couldn’t go there. Instead I had to make do with the roof of our estate.
I was risking a lot by being here. Not only was I sitting on the roof of one of the most expensive and important buildings in England, I was disobeying my father. My father has a dreadful temper. He is one of the king’s closest friends and supporters. He’s one of the richest men in England. And so I, his daughter, am expected to be a proper lady, who will marry a rich nobleman and bear many heirs.
As if.
I might have grown up to be a lady who sits at home and looks after her husband. If only I didn’t have a twin brother; Edward. Edward is everything a man should be, handsome, intelligent and strong. He enjoys hunting, riding, fighting and is quick witted. My father’s so proud. How does this affect me?
When we were younger we’d play together, the only children in a large household; though we’re still children now I suppose, just not young children. He soon discovered that I was a good fighter, a trusty friend and an excellent playmate. Together we’d climb the trees’ in the gardens, have sword fights using sticks and go riding around the grounds.
My father was furious of course, a young girl, climbing trees! Ruining her dresses! Riding horses like a man! Fighting, and beating I should add; though he’d never admit it, his son and heir! So I was forbidden to climb, fight or ride ever again. Naturally I rebelled and did all of them anyway, with the help of Edward. Only now, I had to be more careful.
I’m easily recognised; a fifteen year old girl, with flaming red hair and ‘intense’ blue eyes. My features didn’t help much. I said my brother was handsome; well he’s a part of me, my other half. In more ways than one; we both got our fathers strong looks, not to mention his strong will. I had strong cheekbones and a high neck.
Unfortunately, I also got my mother’s beauty. I have her red hair and pale skin. I have her soft nose and perfect lips. The combination of my parent’s appearances resulted in me looking like ‘a unique beauty’. My uncle, another powerful and important man, on first seeing me exclaimed; ‘By the gods George! You have an angel in your hands!’
My parents are extremely pleased with my ‘beauty’; it’s guaranteed to get me a good husband. Ugh. I’d trade anything to be someone else.
But as I was saying, I’m easily recognised. So in order to get out by myself I had to dress as a servant. I dress in simple trousers and use a rope for a belt; I wear a small blouse and a jacket. My hair’s stuffed into a hat. I go about barefoot; mainly because I’ve yet to find suitable shoes.
A bit of mud and I can pass as a man.
That’s another problem. Women aren’t allowed to dress as men. I’d be severely punished if my father ever found out. Edward; the traitor, disapproved of me climbing up here every morning dressed as a man. So he wouldn’t come up here with me. As we get older Edward get’s more and more like our father. He’s intensely into politics and has started to show signs of wanting me to be more of a lady. Fortunately, I’m his favourite sparring partner so he won’t tell on me.
So here I sat, breaking every rule my father enforced, breaking quite a few laws as well. Just to see the sun rising, just to be alone, just to be free of everything happening below me. So there I sat waiting for the church bell to ring, telling me it was getting late.
Then the bell did ring, but not how I expected it to. The usual way it rang was once in the morning, to hold the morning communion; to pray to God and thank him for the new day. Once in the afternoon, and once in the evening. This time when the bell rang, it didn’t stop ringing. Which meant only one thing. Someone had died, someone very important had died.
Um, i've written up to chapter 5, but i decided not to post it all; it's a bit long....
Yours Forever
-Sky
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