Free

Jack walked down the path home. For 17 hours he had worked, and it was all for nothing, It was hard being a medieval peasant. It was like this everyday, and not just for him. The entire village faced the same problems he did. As Jack walked along the English countryside, he realized tonight was another of sharing  at most two vegetables between he and his wife. The long road gave him time to think, as there wasn’t much else to do. And as he walked, all that came to mind were the endless problems his village faced. But the worst was Knight Charles. He constantly went against his code, and Jack was fed up. As Jack walked home, he decided to rid himself of his problems, once and for all.
“Welcome home,” Jack’s wife called out to him. Jack merely grunted as he entered the house, to tired to do anything, even talk. He ate his dinner in silence, and went straight to bed. As he slept, his mind started to wonder if he should fight back against his problems. When the sun rose, Jack was still undecided. As he was getting ready, the early morning silence was broken. All the villagers were being called to the town center, and in the middle of the growing crowd, was Knight Charles.
“ – and as such, I see it fit to take one eighth of your income. All who fail to comply will be swiftly sent to the fiery depths of hell.” The ear of Jack caught this much before cries of protest came from the crowd. Jack almost joined in, but feared eternal damnation for stepping out of place. But, as he began to accept his fate to forever be in the service others, he remembered his thoughts from the night before. He wanted to get rid of his problems, and most of all, Knight Charles. And here was he was, problem number one, imposing another tax not from the lord, but for Charles himself. Charles was the one taking everything the peasant had, not their lord. That was widely known, but no one had done anything about that, until now.
As Jack re-entered the crowd, Knight Charles began to silence the complainers. He made his way over to one, and swiftly knocked him over, as if a bull had just attacked a simple stick of wood, the peasant collapsed.
“Let that be a lesson to the heretics. Do others wish to go against me and face the possibility of losing your salvation? You have two hours to comply with your orders,” Charles called out to the crowd. But as he began to walk away, something unexpected happened. A figured jumped out at Charles, and tried to hurt him. But it was hopeless, futile to attack Charles. But, this was not Jack, it was his wife. And with a swift flick, she was knocked back into a house wall.
“Whose wife is this? Whoever it be, teach this wench to respect those above her, lest she forever writhe in agony in the burning pits of hell.” His point made, Charles left the circle of peasants, onto his home.
As he left, the peasants began to murmur to each other.
“We must do something.”
“We must free ourselves from this oppression.”
“But who?”
“How, we have nothing –“
“I will do it. I detest Charles more than anything, and I have my families honor to regain, just give me a weapon,” Jack said, ready to hear the protest of how he shouldn’t, and that he is not fit to attack Knight Charles, but they did not come. Instead, Jack’s friend left the circle, and quickly came back. With him, he brought a sword.
“I got it when I went to visit the castle, they never noticed someone took a sword.” His friend told Jack.
And so, two hours later, the only that met Knight Charles, was Jack.
“Where are the rest? And where be your share?” Charles asked.
“No one will come, and I have nothing to offer. Our village no longer acknowledges your power.” Jack told him.
“Then you have come here as a sacrifice?” Charles asked.
“No.”
“Good, not that it mattered, since you plan to rebel, it would seem that I will have to kill every last one of you.”
And at that moment, a rock struck Charles head. He turned to see a little girl, maybe 7, standing behind him.
“You don’t know your place little missy,” Charles said as he picked her up. He unsheathed his sword, and put his blade to her throat, “I think I’ll start with her, what say you?”
And to Charles, it looked as if Jack had disappeared. And in the next second, unimaginable pain came to Charles. For someone who is unimaginably confident in his ability, but has never been to the battlefield, having his hand cut off is even more painful than normal.
“No” Jack said in answer, “No one will be hurt by you, ever again.”
Jack caught the little girl and put her down behind him.
“Stay here, okay?” Jacks asked the little girl as he smiled down on her.
“Kay.” She answered back to him.
Charles was now past the pain, his drive to kill Jack surpassed everything else. He came running at him, sword in hand. For a big man, he was fast. His leg muscles tightened, and he jumped. He came down, as if he was weighted down by the pure hatred he felt towards Jack. Jack turned, and brought up his sword. The sound of metal on metal filled Jacks ears. He pushed aside Charles sword, and thrust forward. Charles jumped back. He retreated to the other side of their small battlefield.
“How can one so lowly as you be a match for me?” He asked.
“Hate only gets you so far Knight Charles, but when a human needs to protects something, he will do anything to do so, even surpass his limits,” Jack answered back.
And yet, hatred can also let the body surpass its limits. And so, Charles fought back. Sparks flew as the swords ground together, and the two danced like fire, attacking each other, with only the thought of destroying the other in their mind. And at last, Jack struck flesh. Charles other hand was cut off. It was over. Charles gasped in pain and shock.
“Please! Please spare me!”
“Just like you would have spared me? My village? That girl? I think…no.”
And with a swift strike, Charles head hit ground.
Later in years, Jack and his village set off for new land, one that they could call their own. They faced trials, and would sometimes have to fend off other knights. But finally, they could call themselves…free.