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Weekly Contest #277
A knock at the door interrupted supper. A feast of lamb’s leg and roast vegetables. I stood from my chair, my head crashed into a wooden beam that held up the old, thatched roof. Crouched, I walked to the door, dirt crunching under my boots. “Good evening, Giant,” said the bishop. “Evening, Bishop,” I replied.The parish priest and lord of the manor flanked the bishop. A group of knights - swords sheathed, shield across their chests - stood behind them. The bishop held up a large scroll of paper.“Giant, by the order of the King of Engla...
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