For my second #8 Sunday, I’m looking at part of the prologue from the fantasy story I started blogging about last week. In this scene, the otherwise healthy King of Alba (father to the sisters in my previous post) lays dying from a mysterious wound. Hope you enjoy this snippet! As always, check out the awesome work of other Weekend Writing Warriors at wewriwa.com.
The King of Alba lay dying, his breath catching as he struggled to breathe past the hole in his chest. Through the window, he could hear the sound of hounds baying; spitting up blood, he struggled to sit.
“My lord,” said one of his aides as she supported him, “lay still, the doctor is coming.”
Ignoring her, the King frantically searched out the Captain of his Guard.
“Secure,” the King whispered hoarsely, “the castle.”
The Captain looked toward his King in confusion, “My lord?” he queried.
With a last breath, the King grabbed the front of the Captain’s tunic and pulled him close.
“Protect my girls. He’s coming.”