Title my Story . . .

“Sabina, you dawdler!” Impatience etched Gillota’s voice. “Mass is nigh over and Lord Raboc will not be kept waiting!”

Sabina nodded mutely and balanced her tray of bread as she piled on another loaf.

“Enough! Go!” The head cook flipped her hands and Sabina quickly heeded the message.

In the dining hall, Sabina could hear the low tones of Raboc’s laughter. At least he was in good humor this morning. Sabina relinquished her load to the table and returned to the kitchen for more. The rowdiness in the dining hall only escalated as Raboc filled himself with food and wine.

With her task finished, Sabina waited in a quiet corner for Raboc to leave the room. Her eyes travelled to the narrow slit of a window. From her elevated standpoint, she could see for miles down the well-worn road. In the morning sunlight, a cloud of dust formed on the horizon. Sabina squinted her eyes. No small company formed such commotion.

Raboc pounded his fist on the table and Sabina jerked her attention to him. “More!” he commanded, holding his cup out. Sabina rushed to fulfill the task then took initiative to clear up the used dishes. Each time she passed the window, she paused, her curiosity intensified.

“More!”

How much wine would Raboc inhale? It was still early morning, but Sabina obeyed without word or question. Finally, Raboc loitered to the next room and Sabina hurried with the other girls to clean.

On her final trip to the dining hall, a loud exclamation from the next room stopped her.

“And what pleasure have I this visit?” Raboc’s polite query contrasted his earlier tone. Sabina slipped to the doorway.

“No pleasure, but duty.” The man speaking was surrounded by several guards. Sabina’s eyes quickly took in the velvet cap and fur coats carefully adorned with peacock feathers. The king himself. “It has been brought to my attention, Lord Raboc, that you have taken control of funds and misplaced them.”

(the first tidbit of Ancel’s story)

~*~

After hearing a sermon on Matthew 18, the story of Raboc and Ancel brewed in the back of my mind for a few weeks. This week, the Lord allowed me to finish the rough draft of Ancel’s story (2, 133 words). It is not my desire to retell Scripture or reinterpret it neither is this story intended to be an allegory. It is simply a story to demonstrate forgiveness and a few of the lessons that I have learned in that subject.

I had fun jotting down this story, doing several things which are new for me: 1) writing with an omniscient viewpoint (following more than one character), 2) writing mainly from the guys’ perspectives (yes, I am a girl and usually write in the viewpoint of which I’m most familiar), and 3) writing a story loosely {very loosely} set in feudal England (little did I know that my research for a paper on feudal England when I was sixteen would resurface to help me with a piece of fiction).

Now for the part which is of semi-importance: I really need a title. The working title was “That Thou Owest,” but after writing the story, I realize the title does not display the content of the story. So, I have a favor to ask: I need a title and would like your input! Of course, to know the content of the story, you must take your time to read it.

If you are interested in reading Ancel's story, please shoot me an email at withajoyfulnoise(at)gmail(dot)com and I would be more than happy to send you a PDF of the story. In return, I ask that you offer some title suggestions – and while you’re at it, you can also give me your critique of it, if you notice anything that needs to be addressed.