The Messenger Boy

Fiction By Laura Elizabeth // 5/21/2009

The Messenger Boy

I don't know what gave me the idea for this. I wrote it about a year ago. I hope ya'll enjoy it!

Chapter 1
The Inn

The Messenger Boy

I don't know what gave me the idea for this. I wrote it about a year ago. I hope ya'll enjoy it!

Chapter 1
The Inn
Dervin was fifteen years old, and he lived in Lovolnin. He was a messenger boy, and, although that may sound exciting and interesting to you, it was in reality a very dull job. The reason for this was that there was hardly anything to do. Just think of it! The other day he had had to ride to a tiny village only five miles away, and give a message to the governor that taxes had not been paid for the past five months. Him, a Royal Messenger, being made to do such unimportant things as that! And half the time he did nothing at all. The only thing that made it bearable was the pay: food, lodging, and twenty silver Swans(which are coins worth two brass Beagles) a month. One day, His Majesty, King Arandol, summoned his eight messengers(two were all he ever needed, but it made him look and feel more important to have eight) and said, "I have some very urgent messages to be carried. One for each of you. Dervin, you are to go to Lord Berthul with these papers. Guard it with your life." "Yes, sire!" Dervin replied promptly. At last! Something exciting. He had never been told to guard anything with his life. He had never even been told to guard it with his horse's life. The king dismissed him, and the boy raced for the kitchen, got the provisions from the cook, saddled his horse and rode away, with the papers tucked safely in his messenger's pouch. Whenever he came to a crossroads, he looked right and left to make sure no highwaymen were lurking there, waiting for him. If he came to a patch of trees, he drew his knife and peered around anxiously, as if thieves were about to jump on him. He kept this up until he came to an inn at night time. "Hello," said the innkeeper. "Would you like a room?" "Yes, please," Dervin replied, standing straight, though he was very tired. "The best you have." "Oh, my! That will cost you twenty gold Gorillas." (Gorillas are coins worth two silver Swans each.) "Twenty! Look, I'm the king's messenger. You should give it to me for half price." "Oh, messenger for the king?" the innkeeper peered at the boy. "Your'e a bit scrawny for that, aren't you?" "Now look here," Dervin said angrily. "I won't argue all night, because I'm tired. Just give me the cheapest room you have." "That will be seven silver Swans." he led the boy upstairs, to a tiny room, with a small bed, a washstand, and a lamp. "Here you are, young man," the innkeeper said, holding out his hand for his money. Grudgingly, Dervin gave it, and lay down on the bed. "I shall report this indignity to His Majesty," he muttered as he fell asleep. In the morning, he went downstairs, where several other people were sitting around the table, eating and laughing. After paying another silver Swan for breakfast, he went over to the table. "Excuse me," he said. No one looked up, so he cleared his throat and said louder, "Excuse me, but I need to sit down." "Plenty of floor space," said one of the men. "I'm the king's messenger!" he cried. "I shall report you to His Majesty!" "The King's messenger? That must mean you have a letter or something. Let's see it, and then we'll let you sit here." "I-I can't. I was told to guard it with my life." the men burst into laughter, and turned away from him. Angered, Dervin sat on the floor and ate, then stalked out the door, mounted his horse, and rode away.

Chapter 2
The Inn (Again)
Dervin slowed down at midday, and reached for his pouch to get out his food. The pouch was not there! And with it was the message for Lord Berthul! With his heart pounding, the boy got on his horse and headed back to the inn, his eyes searching the roadway for any sign of his pouch, though how it could have fallen off, he didn't' know. He retraced his steps all the way back to the inn, and then went inside. "You again!" the innkeeper said. "What do you want?" "I left my pouch here," Dervin explained. "It's in the room I slept in." "Go up there, then," the innkeeper said. So Dervin climbed the stairs, and opened the door. He looked everywhere: under the bed, behind the lamp, and behind the wash stand. It was not there. He groaned, and descended the stairs. "It wasn't there," he said. "Oh, what will I do now? Was there anyone else in here after me?" "Just one other." "Do you know where he was headed?" "He said something about the palace," the innkeeper replied. "He'd be there by now, I suppose." "Oh, no!" cried Dervin. "Not there! If he has it, he'll show it to the king, and I'll be ruined!" "Show your pouch to the king?" "Not the pouch, the important message. I was to guard it with my life. Oh, what will I do now?" with a heavy heart, the boy turned and left the inn. "Wait, boy!" called the innkeeper. "It's nearly nighttime. You'd best stay here and get some rest. You can't do anything about it now." "And get cheated again?" Dervin muttered under his breath. But then he remembered the king wouldn't care if he got cheated anymore, and that he was just a common peasant boy again, and, perhaps, an outlaw. He paid his seven Silver Swans and flopped onto the bed. As he did so, he felt something bulky under him. He jumped up, threw the sheets off, and grabbed his pouch. Eagerly he looked through, and saw that the message was still there. He remembered how tired he had been the night before, and decided that he must have put it under the sheets when he was half asleep. Then he went to sleep with a light heart. In the morning, he paid his silver Swan for breakfast, and rode out, singing merrily. Near sundown, he reached Lord Berthul's castle,and gave him the message. Berthal read it, and Dervin said excitedly, "What does it say, sir?" "It says," replied the other. "You have failed to pay your taxes for five months."
The End

Comments

Hehe. :) That was amusing.

Hehe. :) That was amusing.

The title caught my eye because it made me think of the song "The Minstrel Boy." (incredible Celtic tune, especially when sung by Charlie Zahm).

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“The venerable dead are waiting in my library to entertain me and relieve me from the nonsense of surviving mortals.”
- Samuel Davies

Kyleigh | Sat, 05/23/2009

Thanks,

Thanks, Kyleigh!

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"Give the password," said the chief soldier.
"This is my password," said the King as he drew his sword. " 'The light is dawning; the lie broken'. Now guard thee, miscreant, for I am Tirian of Narnia!" --

Laura Elizabeth | Sat, 05/23/2009

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The best stories are those that are focused, unassuming, and self-confident enough to trust the reader to figure things out. --

http://lauraeandrews.blogspot.com/2014/05/dont-tell-me-hes-smart.html