Kernan

 

Kernan was written for a Summer School class in 2004 as an example on how to write a story when I was a teacher in California. I sat down and pumped this out in about an hour. It is an unfinished story, as it really only included Chapter 1. I never intended to write more than a single chapter.

Still, it has the potential to be a good story, if I were to ever finish it.

 

Kernan grumbled as he carried the slop bucket out to the pigs. He hated feeding the pigs. Every morning and every night. Feed the pigs. Feed the pigs.

“Who do they think I am?” he asked to himself. “Lord of the Pigs?”

Kernan dumped the slop into the pig trough and rested his arms on the fence. He looked longingly toward the Urzack Mountains, where he used to live with his mother and father before they’d been killed. He wished they were still alive, mostly because he hated pigs. He lived with his mom’s sister, Aunt Menolly. She and her husband ran and inn outside the small town of Bliner. Being only 15 years old, Kernan was ready to be apprenticed to someone, to learn some kind of trade, but no one seemed to want him.

After a few minutes, Kernan sighed, picked up the bucket, and headed back into the inn.

“What took you so long?” the gravelly voice of his uncle asked.

“Nothin’, Uncle Brack. Just thinking.”

“Well, think on your own free time. I don’t pay you five shillings a week for you to think. Now, Room 2 is empty and needs the sheets changed. Go do it.”

Kernan grumbled and started up the stairs when the front door flew open. There in the bright doorway stood a vision, at least Kernan thought so. Long, black hair trailed to the girl’s waist and her green eyes shone like emeralds in the sun.

Kernan slowly let his breath out and watch the girl as she crossed the room toward his uncle.

“Excuse me, sir,” the girl began, “would you happen to have a room for the night?”

“That’ll be three shillings . . . paid in advance,” Brack replied, frowning at the young traveler.

The girl reached into her cloak and pulled out a few coins, counted them, handed three shilling over to Kernan’s uncle, and stored the rest away.

“Kernan! Get down here and show the missus to Room 2,” Uncle Brack said. “And get her some clean sheets.”

“Yes, sir. Follow me, miss.”

Kernan started up the stairs with the girl right behind him. On the second floor, he opened the door to Room 2 and she walked in. Kerman noted that she smelled like and autumn breeze after a rainstorm as she walked past.

“It’s not very nice, is it? Is there anything better?”

“I’m afraid they’re all pretty much the same, Miss . . . ” Kernan said.

“Um . . . Leeza,” the girl said.

Kernan walked across the room and opened up the shutters, catching one of them as it began to fall. He pushed it back into place praying it would hold. He turned around and saw Leeza was starring at him with a funny look on her face.

“Do I know you?” she asked.

“I don’t think so,” Kernan replied. “I never forget a face.”

“I’m sure that I’ve met you,” Leeza said as she crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. It squeaked something horrible.

“I need to change those sheets.”

Kernan quickly stripped the bed and put a fresh, or at least one that was only slightly used, pair of sheets on the bed.

Leeza looked and the sheets and knew that there probably weren’t any fresher ones in the inn.

“Thank you,” she said as she sat down again. She took off her shoes and began rubbing her sore feet.

“I could swear that I know you. But you looked older . . . more distinguished. Like maybe I knew your fath . . . wait, I know! You look just like Blackstroke the Ranger!”

“Blackstroke’s my last name, but my father was no ranger. He was just an ordinary sheep herder.” Kernan pointed to the mountain outside the window. “We used to live in those mountains . . . until my parents were killed.”

“No, I’m quite sure,” Leeza said continuing to rub her feet. “Was your father an elf?”

Kernan winced. “Yes, but I don’t like to talk about it.”

“Why? Your father was one of the greatest Elvin rangers the Kingdom of Justince has ever known. He’s one of the heroes of the Dragonfire Wars.”

“What are you talking about?” Kernan said with a furrowed brow. “My father was a sheep herder. Nothing more. An Elvin ranger? Don’t make me laugh. Ha!”

Leeza looked at Kernan and wondered if he were playing with her. If he really was the son of the great Blackstroke, then maybe he could help her. Did he really not know what his father truly did? She didn’t know where else to turn. Whom could she trust? She knew that the pack of goblins that had been on her trail were catching up to her. She put one hand to her chest and touched the locket around her neck. She felt the magical power emanating from the locket and wondered how she was going to keep it away from Lord Asilomar. She knew that he would stop at nothing to get it back.

“How do know your father isn’t who I say he was?” Leeza asked, looking Kernan straight in the eyes.

“Well, my mom told me that he often travelled to Icabar, as he was helping a friend of his start a sheep farm. And when he came home, he always had a lot of coins and wool rugs. Hm, he always had new scars, though, but he told me stories about this one nasty ram. I mean, we didn’t have any sheep, but . . . but . . .”

“But, what?”

“I mean, well, there was no way my father was a ranger. He was so kind and gentle. He didn’t even own a sword!”

“Are you sure about that?” Leeze asked. “Was there ever a room you were no allowed in?”

“No . . . but I did follow my father out to the barn late one night and saw him open a trap door in the floor. I never went down there, though. I did peek in there once, but it was so dark, and I was young and afraid.” Kernan looked ashamed.

“So, maybe he was the famous Blackstroke. I remember him when he would pay the court a visit and talk to my father, the ki . . .” Leeza quickly shut her mouth, but realize that she had said too much.

“What are you saying? Wait, are you? You are . . . Princess Shearann. Oh, my . . .” Kernan got down on one knee and bowed to the princess.

Princess Shearann stood up. “Please arise. I don’t want anyone to know.”

Kernan stood up and looked Princess Shearann straight in the eye. “Why are you here? Why are you traveling in disguise?”

Princess Shearann sat back down on the edge of the bed and sighed. Her shoulders began to shake, but she stopped herself from crying. After all, a princess does not cry when in front of a commoner. Or is he really a commoner? Was he truly the son of Blackstroke the Ranger? She realized that she needed him to be, so she told him her story.

“My father and mother, the King and Queen of Justince, are being held under a magical spell cast by the evil court mage, Lord Asilomar. Asilomar intends to rule the kingdom by killing my parents. Before he can do that, he has to marry me. But I am only 14 and am not ready to be married.” Shearann wringed her hands together and continued her story. “He is so old. Not just old, but really old.”

She reached inside the neck of her dress and pulled out the locket.

“This was Asilomar’s. I stole it from him a fortnight ago and have been on the run ever since. The locket has the ability to give the wearer eternal life. But, if the wearer takes off the locket, the years the wearer has cheated death quickly begin to catch up with them.”

“Do you mean . . . ?” Kernan started to ask with his mouth hanging open.

“Lord Asilomar is aging quickly and has about one month to live before he dies of old age. I plan to keep running until his time runs out. Then I’ll return and reclaim the throne, as I fear he may have already slain my parents in a fit of anger.”

“Wow!” was all Kernan could say

Shearann looked at Kernan and said, “I need your help.”

“My help?” he asked incredulously.

“I want you to take me to your old house in the Urzack Mountains. If what I think is there, under that trap door, it may be my only hope. But I need you to take me. Will you do that for me? Will you do that to save the Kingdom of Justince?”

Kernan could not believe his ears. He closed his mouth and just looked at the princess. He understood he had no future here with this aunt and uncle, unless he wanted to work with pigs all of his life. He knew he didn’t want to do that even one more day.

What do I have to lose? he thought

Kernan knelt down on one knee and bowed his head. “Princess Shearann, I swear my loyalty to you and will safely transport you wherever you need to go.”

She tapped him on the right shoulder and said, “Arise Kernan. I see your father in you and know you’ll protect me. Do you know how to use a sword?”

“Well, I use an old rusty one to bang in nails on the pig stall, but as for learning to fight with one . . . no, I was never trained,” Kernan said.

“Hmmm . . .,” was all the princess had to say.

“It is only a five day journey. How hard can it be?”

Kernan was just about to find out.