Uprising 2-Rebels’ Perspective

(This is part 2 of my short story series “Uprising.” To read part one, click here.)

Peasants, rebels, and overly taxed humans gathered in the abandoned barn. With nothing but an old tabletop and straw for seats, they met. The crops had long since gone to seed, or to thorns. This was a lost farm, at least that’s what the leader wanted the government to think.

No one knew what his name was, they just called him “The Leader.” Some of the common folk here knew each other sure, but whenever possible, no one learned someone else’s name. It was safer that way.

“Greetings all,” began the leader, “let’s begin, as sunrise will be here before we know it.” He glanced at the barn door, as only darkness and a chilled wind came through its side opening. “Has anyone changed their mind regarding what must be done?”

The leader looked around expectantly, no one said anything but only shook their heads.

“Our king continues to tax everyone, even us common people. Our leaders continue to finance their wars and hidden dealings, all while ignoring our cries of starvation and the zombie problem.”

“That’s why I am here alone,” said a frail yet very determined woman of advanced age, “my husband died of hunger and immediately joined the undead and,” she sobbed audibly but continued, “I was the only one there that had to stop him. I drew the only weapon I have — a club — and I barely managed to remove him.” She sobbed even more now. The leader had to lower his gaze for a moment.

“But your children managed to escape?” asked the leader. She shook her head. Those nearby placed their hands on her, to bring some comfort.

“I…am the only one who survived. I will join you in battle.” Having said everything that was necessary, she let her tears and wails flow.

“Can we really do this though?” asked a concerned young man. “The knights, the magistrate and his men, they all have armor, swords, flails…and look at us! With our crude clubs and stones, how can we even think about stopping them?!”

“There are more of us,” someone said evenly.

“We want to be free, free to live. These knights only fight out of obligation.” The leader smiled and nodded, firmly.

“Our king and his family only govern to keep their privilege and pleasure. No, we are on the side of what is right, we will prevail!” The cautious young man nodded apprehensively.

“I hope you’re right,” said the young man, “It’s just…what they’re doing to us is not right, that’s true. But they still have weapons and shields that we don’t. I mean, how many of us will die in spite of it all?” The leader got up off the hay floor to address this.

“Your concerns are not unwarranted,” everyone hung their heads or looked away, “We are taking on heavily armed professional soldiers, while we have only clubs and rocks. And they have the money and backing of our government. But what do we have that they lack?” No one said anything.

“Do these government leaders care about your families? Your children? Do they even know who they are?”

“No, they do not.” The leader nodded.

“While some of our family members have earned their way into the government, will they really be more loyal to our king than their own families?”

“No, they will not!” The leader nodded.

“Precisely! And if we ask our family to join us, whether we wield clubs or swords, how many people from our families will join us? There are much more of us than there are of them!”

“And any and all weapons that we steal or take from fallen fighters can be used again!” said another rebel, cheerfully.

“Yes, my friends we can win,” continued the leader, “And we will. We know what we fight for is right, not a mere a sense of entitlement. We may give our lives, but we will fight like people with three lives while they will fight with only one. We may die, yes, but we will give life to the future! Our children and their children will know what true freedom is and that, is worth dying for!”

Cries of triumph rang out from the barn and no further words were needed. The rebels gathered their things and left the barn to get ready for battle. The same young man who was apprehensive about fighting before even volunteered to deliver the declaration of war to the castle himself.

The leader wrote the rebels intentions on a scroll and handed it to the young man, who nodded and immediately rode off. In two days, these rebels would gather an hour’s ride away from the castle and would not leave until the knights surrendered the kingdom or faced them in battle.

Carron Vant mounted his horse, which had waited in the woods and out of sight. There was no reason for these rebels to see a royal horse after all. And because Carron had only become Malkor’s personal servant just two weeks ago, his castle position had gone unnoticed. A long moment passed before Carron realized that he had not told his horse to ride. He signaled for a trot then gallop, and they left.

They rode for the castle as time was already beginning to escape Carron.

But what was he to do? Inform on them to the king and prince? Continue his life of privilege and declare war on these “rats”? Or, could he see them as they were, people whom the elites were afraid of? They were people who were just trying to make it and get a fair chance in life. What, if anything, could Carron do?

Carron also wondered what type of mask would be sufficient at the battle. His people never wore masks into combat however, his people also never spied on the enemy either. A mask would have kept him relatively safe on the battlefield, and would have been great fun to remove immediately after hearing the king’s terms…

The sky darkened and cooled, as the sun hid behind the clouds. The battle between knights, rebels, and zombies, was half a day closer.