Algonkian Writer Conference – St. Augustine, Florida
(24-27 February 2023)
Assignment #1, Story Statement: Become a knight and reunite with his first and one true love.
Assignment #2, Sketch of Antagonist: First Antagonist – Thomas, earl of Lancaster, and cousin to King Edward II. Sir Thomas believes that if not for the twist of fate that his father succeeded Edward I from the womb, he would have been king. So much so, that he is willing to oppose the king (his cousin) and the king’s favorites to the point of civil war. He is accustomed to privilege, authority, and expects everyone should venerate and defer to him. He is arrogant, headstrong, quick to anger, and holds grudges.
Second Antagonist - Garrick, eldest son and heir to the earl of Lancaster. Garrick, like his father, is a man of privilege and carries a strong sense of entitlement. He is arrogant, cavalier, irascible, self-absorbed, and indifferent to accepted customs of conduct.
Assignment #3, Breakout Title: Chivalrie
(other titles considered: 2nd & 3rd choices – The Eternal Knight; The Knight of the Holy Chalice)
Assignment #4, Develop Two Smart Comparables: Bernard Cornwell, Sharon Kay Penman, and Michael Moorcock
Assignment #5, Hook Line (logline): A widowed knight torn between duty and love, fights to win back the affection of his first, one true love, during the English civil war between King Edward II and the earl of Lancaster.
Assignment #6, Inner Conflict Scenario:
Aidan nodded. “I am a fool. I am a fool to ever think I could march back into your life and expect we could continue where we left off.”
“What kept you away from me for so long?”
“I was badly injured.”
“Why did you not send a message to let me know that you were alive?” Rhiannon punched Aidan’s upper arm. “The worst part was the uncertainty, of not knowing. Do you think that you are the only one who suffered?”
“In the beginning, I was delirious with pain and fever. There were times I wanted to give up and drift away in my sleep, never to wake again. But visions of your face continued to flash through my mind, coaxing me on, pulling me forward to climb out of death’s abyss. In the bleakest hours, I am confident that your love and my desire to be with you again and to gaze upon your face is the only thing that allowed me to persevere, to live.”
Rhiannon reached for Aidan’s hand, holding his fingers ever so softly, “I never stopped believing, though I am not sure why.”
Aidan drew Rhiannon to him, cradling her head against his chest. There were many adventures and foreign places of which Aidan dreamed, but at this moment, Aidan could not imagine a place he would rather be than holding Rhiannon, as if time could stand still and he would be forever content.
After a spell, Rhiannon broke the silence, “My father and I would have fetched you.”
Aidan replied by squeezing Rhiannon tighter, preferring to prolong the embrace, and refusing to disturb the feeling of reciprocal love.
Rhiannon brought her hand to rest upon Aidan’s chest, her slender fingers tracing the hardened muscles under the tunic. “What happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“What happened that it took you so long to find your way back to me?”
“After my fall, I was found by a traveling woodsman from the highlands. Somehow between the woodsman’s herbal medicines and the snow curbing the bleeding from my wounds, he managed to save me and carry me to his home. The woodsman had a daughter. She nursed me back to health. Day and night, she attended and watched over me. During the bouts of fever, she would lie naked with me, keeping me warm with her body and holding me through the shakes and shivers. One night she came to me, but I was no longer with fever. We made love. From that night forward, I vowed chastity unto her. I figured I owed her that much. Once I regained my strength and could contribute, I married her.”
“Does this savior have a name?”
“Rowena…Rowena died giving birth to our son…in the barren white and cold of winter.”
“You have a son?”
“The blood, there was so much blood. I felt awash in the sanguine liquid, drowning and helpless. I could not stop its flow. And my son wrinkled but handsome, lay silent. My elation dashed like a broken body cast from the white cliffs to the sea below.”
“I am sorry.” The wind outside cried, and a branch brushed against the near window, a stained-glass depicting Jesus being kissed by the apostle Judas. “Had Rowena not died, would you be here now?”
Rhiannon did not wait for Aidan to answer. As he watched Rhiannon walk out of the chapel and likely out of his life, Aidan admitted to himself, “No, probably not.”
Assignment #6, Secondary Conflict Scenario:
Aidan wanted to ask about Rhiannon, but he never got the chance. Animated for such a late hour, a grin stretching across his handsome features, Sir Geoffrey began to gush about the woman he loved. During his outpouring, Sir Geoffrey had flipped a bucket over and sat down.
Aidan climbed up on the horse stall opposite, taking it all in. As the man he had come to know the best and the longest of his short life shared the deepest emotions of his heart, Aidan’s mind wondered back to Rhiannon. In his mind, he knew circumstances would be different compared to the way circumstances were before that fateful day on top of the ridge, but in his heart, he was hoping against hope that Rhiannon had not moved on. He half-smiled and listened politely, occasionally comparing similar times he had spent with Rhiannon.
“There is something I need to tell you. We didn’t know. We did not know you were alive. We always believed you dead.”
Aidan listened without really listening. He was still thinking of Rhiannon.
“Lady Rhiannon and I are planning to marry in June.”
Aidan was jolted back to the present and consciousness.
“In truth, I cannot believe it, as I have been chasing after Lady Rhiannon since childhood. And finally, she has allowed me to catch her. Lady Rhiannon has agreed to be my wife.”
Aidan felt the dagger plunge into his stomach, up to the hilt and unmercifully twisted. Suddenly, he understood why Geoff could not wait to see him. He did not want Aidan’s return to Castle Caerleon to ruin his plans with Lady Rhiannon. In truth, Geoff was his best friend, and he was sure that Geoff was sincere in his joy at seeing him alive, but also, Geoff wanted to stake his claim, unequivocally, before Lady Rhiannon discovered Aidan’s resurrection for herself. Aidan had to face the facts…life had continued without him.
Sir Geoffrey was still talking. “You will stay and take part in the wedding?
Aidan did the only thing a best friend could do. He jumped down and embraced Geoff. “Congratulations. You honor me with the perfect gift for my homecoming. As for staying, that will be up to Lord FitzGilbert.”
Assignment #7, Setting: The 14th century during the English civil war between King Edward II and his cousin, Thomas, earl of Lancaster. The setting includes castles, dungeons, secret passages, jousting and swords, wedding, the church, medieval food and drink, men-at-arms, knights, ladies, servants, and the wilderness of England.
Opening Scene: Introduces protagonists, setting, tone, and foreshadows the primary conflict Chapter One – The Messenger Aidan understood mourning. And now today, Aidan feared he would again lie to rest someone who was not yet supposed to die. Out of the highlands beyond the head of Loch Lomond, Aidan had traveled south through Northumberland, across the River Tyne and into the familiar heather moorlands of the upland plateau. Following a line of drooping birch trees around a bend, Aidan had crested a small hill when he saw the body lying in the road. Aidan coaxed his long-legged Friesian to a gentle trot. As he approached, the sinking sun cast long cool shadows across his path, and he marveled at the scattered patches of snow nestled along the sides of the road, and their refusal to melt under the bright skies of early spring. Upon reaching the body, he dismounted, recognizing at once the uniform of a king’s courier. Removing his hood, Aidan bent down on one knee and shook the fallen messenger gently, “Sir, are you hurt? Can I help?” The old man opened his eyes and muttered, “Water.” Aidan fetched the goatskin off his horse and put it to the man’s lips. “What happened?” The courier took a sip of water, coughed, sputtered blood, mumbled “the dispatch,” and slipped away into death. Aidan searched the courier’s satchel. It was empty. Blood oozed from under the courier’s midsection. Taking off his gauntlets, Aidan rolled the courier toward him, pulled the blood-soaked shirt away from his back and found the fatal wound. Tracing the length, depth and angle of the wound with his fingers, Aidan was convinced the old man never saw the blow. Recalling the secret his father had taught him, that sometimes a king’s courier plants a decoy in the satchel and carries the real message in a pouch tied about the neck, Aidan ripped open the man’s shirt. No pouch. He looked closer. A raw abrasion cut across the right side of the courier’s neck. Aidan searched the courier’s clothes for any means of identification or origin or destination. Nothing. There was nothing, save a short dagger and its bulbous pommel encasing a likeness of the king’s seal, still sheathed in its scabbard. Aidan tucked the knife into a loop woven around his narrow sword belt to hang off his right hip, next to his own fine-pointed and thin-bladed dagger. Aidan washed the dried blood from his hands and tenderly closed the courier’s eyes. He stood over the courier, said a short prayer, and gestured the sign of the cross. Retrieving the blanket furled behind his saddle, Aidan folded the courier’s arms, resting the old man’s callous palms across his heart, and then draped the blanket over the body. He grabbed the empty satchel, slung it over his horse, and secured it to the rear of his saddle. The only thing left to do was to bury the man. Scanning the nearby terrain for the most suitable spot for a grave, Aidan wondered about the life of the old man. He lamented the fact he would never hear the old man tell of his great adventures sitting around the open fire and sharing a drink, or that he would never have the opportunity to tell the old man how much he admired his dedication to duty, yielding his life in the king’s service. Selecting a patch of ground beneath a shady oak, Aidan started to dig, speculating on the procession of loved ones who would mourn for the courier and come to this remote place to say, “God be with ye.” The sun had disappeared behind a sky turned pitch-dark by the time he completed marking the courier’s grave with a mound of gathered stones. He led his black Netherlands war-horse, Samson, so named because of the thick flowing mane and tail, to the other side of the road, up over a slight rise, and down to a small clearing to bed down for the night. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Under the same dark sky, a bearded man tossed the remnants from his cup into the ashes, climbed into the saddle, and rode south. CHAPTER TWO – LADY RHIANNON “I’ll race you to the yearning tree,” shouted Lady Rhiannon from over her shoulder, already whipping her horse into a gallop. Reaching full stride, she glanced back to see Sir Geoffrey’s mount lunge forward to take chase. The race was on. Rhiannon knew her mare had the speed to outrun Geoffrey in a sprint, but she needed to stay close and within striking distance until they reached the meadow. The yearning tree grew at the far side of the meadow down by the lake, a massive solitary oak with arching limbs and broad-bladed leaves that provided shade from the sweltering heat, and shelter during the seasonal rains. She had passed many an afternoon under that tree, dreaming about life and love. Once she thought she was in love. But that bliss had vanished in a senseless act of selfish courage. Even so, on occasion, she would ride to the ancient oak to stroke the pair of initials hidden on the underside of a great bough carved during a bygone summer’s eve. Riding helped Rhiannon forget. She would never be as skilled or as strong as the men in arms, but she could ride. Rhiannon darted around and between two trees heading for the edge of the woods. As she cut through the trees, a branch swung at Rhiannon’s face threatening to unseat her. She managed to deflect it with her arm but paid for the encounter with a nasty scratch and a thin trail of blood.