Welcome to Three Word Thursday #32 . This week, joining the quondam obscure word-list, we have tenellous; utible; & nubivagant. We also have a dandy bunch of perspicacious writers. If you enjoy reading my story, leave a comment then click on the names of the other players and go see how they used these bygone words. You’ll be entertained (and possibly educated) all at once.
The 12th Knight of Strawberry Fife
Sir Evaard turned away from the Patisserie household. With the black wreath hanging there he could not bang upon the door demanding answers. Maybe, if he were and older knight, one with tried and true experience, he could get away with such a thing. Now, if he started making accusations without proof, they would probably accuse him of nubivagant fantasies. He needed utible proof before going any further.
He walked back toward the Strawberry stand. Yesterday he thought guarding strawberries an embarassment. This morning he wished that strawberry thieves were his greatest concern.
The oporopolist saw him coming and let out a wail. “You boy! What kind of Knight are you? The sun has been well up for at least an hour!”
The morning was still cool, the shadows were still long, and in truth it hadn’t been full-light for even half that time. Further more, Sir Evaard was no longer a boy, he was a knight of the realm. He considered how his former master, Sir Tomlinson, would have reacted if faced with such disrespect. Sir Evaard tensed with his hand poised above the hilt of his sword. He lowered his chin a fraction, and stared at the fruit seller.
A look of shock crossed the man’s face. He scuttled behind the counter of his fruit stand and stuttered, “P-pardon Sir E-evaard. I-I am c-certain you kn-now the K-king’s business b-better than I!”
Sir Evaard started at the man just a moment longer, then turned his gaze on Sir Chevall’s war horse, clearly dismissing the fruit seller. The horse remained tied to the tree as Evaard had left it, but someone had brought water and feed. From where he stood, Evaard could see a pair of small feet. He approaced the horse and found Fencil leaning against the tree. “I thought I told you to stay with Vernal?”
“I must stay with the horse,” Fencil said. “That is the last order my master gave me.”
“Sir Chevall is dead,” Evaard answered.
“He is not dead until I see his cold body,” Fencil responded.
Evaard knew those words. They were among the first things taught to a page. He considered ordering the boy to return to Vernal and the cabin, but child or not, he had a sworn duty to uphold and he seemed determined to do so. Evaard nodded at the boy. “You are an honor to your master.” His offered the words as a healing salve for the boy’s tenellous pride.
Fencil’s lower lip quivered and his eyes filled with tears. Evaard looked away as the boy furiously swiped his eyes with the hem of his tunic. Once Fencil was under control, Evaard spoke, “If you wish to help your master, I have more questions.”
Fencil gave his nose a swipe on the sleeve of his shirt and nodded his head.
to be continued
Got it? Good! In that case: Your story is due on: October 22nd, 2009