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The end of Chapter 3

By Jan Conradie · Oct 5, 2019 ·
Good grief, Chapter 3 turned out to be too long for 3 parts! So this is finally the end. Apologies in advance if unexpectedly cutting it into 4 caused errors, I will re-check it. This complication caught me by surprise.
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  1. Krijger and his colleagues stand ready with their hands on their swords. The hairs on Krijger’s powerful back rise. There is a palpable tension in the hall, but then the strange moment passes over.
    The Bishop continues with a rather insulting sigh of dissatisfaction. He opens the casket held by the priest. From it he takes a simple crown of solid gold. A single stone, a chalcedony, adorns the front of this impressive symbol of royalty. A golden scepter with the ring of Uther accompanies the crown.
    “Sorm Iannus,” says the Bishop of Chalcedonum in an officious voice as he places the golden crown on Sorm’s head, “I crown you as King Iannus the Second.”
    The Bishop’s herald trumpets a royal salute!
    “It has been fulfilled,” is Sorm’s first royal thought as he smiles gratefully there on his knees with the crown of Uther the Great on his boyish head.
    ***
    Storm dreams of riding a horse in the snow under ominous dead trees. The snow gnashes under the hooves. He is encroached by dark riders, all dressed in black gowns that cover their alien faces. Crows screech from the tree-tops. He senses that something is wrong and then sees a burning rook through the gnarled branches of the surrounding trees. The riders turn their unseen heads to him. He remembers to force himself to touch the reassuring amulet. The cold stone on it glitters unrelentingly green in the light of the winter moon. Then the nearest rider removes the mantle from his head and he recognizes Krog. With a puzzled expression Sorm asks of him: “Krog, why do you wear those medieval clothes?” Then he awakens of the sweat dripping off his chin and tickling down his neck to his chest. He sees that it is an hour too early to dress for school, so he decides to go jog in the brisk breeze of the dusk. Hopefully the cobwebs will blow clear from his jumbled thoughts.
    ***
    © J.M. Conradie

    About Author

    Jan Conradie
    I say nothing about myself except what is suggested by what I write. Internet personas are unverifiable and dangerous to put any faith in whatsoever. Here I am"Jan Conradie"for lack of a better name, or Godspeller Jan for purposes of introducing a protagonist I am busy with today. For being kind to a stranger, you deserve to get some insight into my psyche, so I decided to give something instead of nothing. What little I have in life, is not on the web but in a little house somewhere in reality.

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