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There were weeds in the cabbages, and another messenger from the King’s Seat was standing at the gate.
“Go away,” Georich growled. He tugged up one of the offenders, a spiny thing thrusting through the block of round green heads. The other offender fidgeted nervously in her embroidered robes. Her eyes were fixed on his forehead, on the Mark there that proved he was a Chosen One.
The Mark that left him unable to enjoy his garden in peace.
“Go away,” he repeated.
“Sir — ” she began.
“Is it go or away you don’t understand?”
She blushed at his rebuke, but pressed on. He should admire her for that. “The Calthraxyn army draws closer to the King’s Seat every day, Georich of the Circle. We need you to throw them back.”
He should admire her persistence. He didn’t.
“If I’m throwing anyone anywhere, it’ll be you out of my garden. I’ve told you people before, just because I’m born with the Circle of the Gods on me, doesn’t mean I can help you. Go away.”
“I can’t go,” she said. “Without one of the Chosen Ones, we are lost.”
“What about the other Chosen Ones? Have you asked them?”
She fussed with her signet ring. “The ones I went to… have all refused.”
He started chuckling. The tickle grew in his belly, and the chuckle grew, until it became a full-fledged laugh. His face grew hot with mirth, except for the circle of flesh on his forehead that was marked by the Gods. He felt it, cool as if traced in ice.
It was good to see the rest of them had finally put their feet down. His rash words to that other Chosen One in the tavern of the capitol last autumn hadn’t gone unnoticed, it seemed. All the stares and gossip around the fire had turned into something.
Or maybe he was taking too much credit. It was a common trap for someone marked by the Gods to fall into.
“Look,” he said when his breath returned, beginning to pity her, “I think the King’s Seat has someone better than me, or any of those other old Circle fogies, in its service.”
“Who?”
“You.” His smile turned softer. “Look at you. You’re determined, courageous — perhaps you even have a good head on your shoulders, if anyone cares about that in the King’s Seat.”
“But — but I’m not a Chosen One!”
Georich reached down and pinched a smear of earth between his fingers. He rose, pulled the messenger in front of him, and traced a circle on her forehead.
“Now you are. Chosen by me — a Chosen One myself — so that’s as if you were chosen by the Gods once removed, isn’t it?”
“But… I can’t stand against the Calthraxyn — ”
“But you think an old farmer can?” He clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Relax, girl. The Gods find a way, don’t they?”
The corners of her mouth slowly turned up, from a frown to an uncertain smile.
“That’s it. Go on — and don’t trample my petunias on the way out!”
She went, a look of half-finished wonder on her face. Somewhere past the gate her shoulders began to straighten out. Good shoulders, broad and strong, able to carry much more than shriveled old Georich’s ever had. The petunias were left untrampled.
Georich turned back to his garden, humming quietly beneath his breath.
Therese Arkenberg is a student from Wisconsin, though she studies only in the most extreme circumstances, and many of her works are penned in the classroom. Her fiction has appeared in the Thoughtcrime Experiments anthology; Things We Are Not, an anthology of queer science fiction; and the anthology Sword and Sorceress XXIV. Several of her short stories are also available at AnthologyBuilder.com.
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16 Responses to “FEW ARE CALLED… • by Therese Arkenberg”
Comments
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July 21st, 2010 at 3:51 am
Always enjoy reading your work. This is wonderful.
July 21st, 2010 at 4:46 am
Quite liked it. Simple, inspirational tale.
July 21st, 2010 at 4:54 am
Couldn’t make head nor tail of this.
July 21st, 2010 at 5:37 am
I like this immensely. A very cool little tale to start the morning with – thank you!
July 21st, 2010 at 5:44 am
Felt like this was the first page out of a novel or short story rather than flash fiction. I see the conflict and resolution, but they don’t seem great enough to stand alone as a story. The story just didn’t seem complete. I needed something more, whether it was inference or reference to the characters’ pasts and perhaps some sort of foreshadowing on what would happen to the girl. Just some thoughts.
July 21st, 2010 at 5:46 am
Men. yeesh.
July 21st, 2010 at 6:40 am
While I agree that it felt like only part of a story, I still very much enjoyed it.
July 21st, 2010 at 7:15 am
I would have enjoyed reading more about these characters.
July 21st, 2010 at 7:25 am
Agree with Tom on every point, but still excellent writing.
July 21st, 2010 at 8:31 am
Awwwwwww
A slice of nice!
Well done !
Some common sense in writing
A pleasant….light change !!
I say 5 ** * **
And a big Hurrawwww
July 21st, 2010 at 8:59 am
I agree with what Tom above said. It seemed like part of a longer story. Still, it is good writing.
July 21st, 2010 at 9:32 am
What a great fun little story. I like that the girl now has the confidence to beome leader.
July 21st, 2010 at 10:36 pm
I think this is complete enough, as a story. I liked it. The title does confuse me, though.
July 22nd, 2010 at 8:16 am
I’m a little confused. He’s born with the circle of the gods on him, and the implication from context is that he has some powers that will allow him to throw the Calthraxyn back. I got the impression of supernatural powers.
Instead of using these wonderful powers, he makes the girl feel good about herself so she can go out and face the Calthraxyn – alone? It’s not clear.
I was left with the impression that the girl’s gonna get smoked, and if so, then the old fart in his garden is a jerk.
July 23rd, 2010 at 4:25 am
Tom said my thoughts well. I’d love to read the extended version of this story though.
July 28th, 2010 at 11:04 am
This is wonderful. Turns the whole “special” concept upside down and inside out and has a fun time of it, too. Yes, I want more, but sometimes a taste is good too. Thank you.
P.S. I’m rooting for the messenger girl to triumph. I’m pretty sure she will, one way or another.