Medieval Boy Knight Series: Broken Suit of Armor
I have written at least one story for each of my three boys in which they appear as the main character. A Book in Time was written first for my oldest son who at the time was fascinated by prehistoric creatures. Carousel Spirits was written next for my middle son who has a very big heart for all animals. It was also written to celebrate the life of our first horse Lady. The next two hubs are devoted to my youngest son Kieran who loves knights and his cat Winston who in these stories was transformed into his trusted steed. I hope you enjoy Broken Armor . I have received positive reviews from one professional in whose class I wrote this piece. Any feedback to polish it would be greatly appreciated.
Kieran knew his father would not be happy to discover his son had used his spare suit of armor. But Sir Gerolde was on another quest to save another princess stolen by another evil dragon.
“It’s always the same.” thought Kieran. “He’ll never know!”
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Kieran put on Sir Gerolde’s breastplate. It was a little too big. But he felt like a knight. He put on Sir Gerolde’s helmet. It was too big. But he felt more like a knight. Kieran put on the gloves. They were much too big. Now he really felt like a knight.
Kieran mounted Winston his faithful steed. Holding out his lance he whistled once and Winston raced towards the brass ring. But the glove that was too big slipped and slipped some more then slipped off of his hand and landed under Winston’s hoof. Crunch!
“Oh my!” thought Kieran. “Now he’ll know.”
The blacksmith lived in the village three kilometers east. If he left now, he could have the glove repaired before Sir Gerolde returned. He put away the unbroken pieces of armor, grabbed his only two gold coins in a drawstring pouch and rode off on Winston with the broken glove.
Kieran’s route took him around a dark, foreboding forest. It was longer to go around but Kieran knew inside there were creatures with wicked growls and sharp snickering teeth and yellow, glowing eyes. There were hungry things and greedy things and he knew it was best to stay in the light, on the path, outside of the forest.
But greedy eyes found him and wanted the pouch. The owner of the eyes jumped out. Winston reared. The pouch fell to the ground and was snatched by a Lombax. With a nasty smile it disappeared into the forest.
Kieran had to have those coins. He had to have the glove fixed. So he left the light, went off the path and dashed inside the forest. But again, sneaky eyes were watching. A Slyvern tackled the Lombax stealing the pouch. Zigzagging through the woods it ran, leaving behind a perplexed Lombax and a frustrated Kieran.
Yet again, curious eyes watched the Slyvern and chasing Kieran. A two-faced twittering Fleeb followed the Slyvern on silent wings. Kieran on Winston lifted his arm and whacked some branches. Turning to look, the Slyvern stumbled dropping the pouch. The Fleeb swooped down and snatched the pouch leaving behind a roaring Slyvern, a perplexed Lombax and a frustrated Kieran.
Hungry eyes were watching the Fleeb. Kieran whistled and startled the Fleeb who screeched, dropping the pouch. A Cyclops snatched it from the air leaving behind a squawking Fleeb, a roaring Slyvern, a perplexed Lombax and a frustrated Kieran.
The Cyclops tripped and the pouch went sailing. The two-faced Fleeb caught it again. Looking behind, the Fleeb smashed into a tree dropping the pouch. The roaring Slyvern, in close pursuit, caught it again. The Slyvern took two steps and tromped in quicksand. As he slowly sank, the pouch was recaptured by the no longer perplexed Lombax. Grinning wickedly, the smug Lombax ran back into the forest where the still hungry Cyclops snatched him up causing the pouch to again fly into the air. Kieran and Winston in hot pursuit recaptured the pouch and the gold inside.
Their hearts thudding, Kieran and Winston galloped full-tilt back into the light, on the path outside of the forest. In the village, Kieran found the blacksmith squeezing his bellows. Roaring flames illuminated wise eyes. The blacksmith took the pouch, eyed the coins and smiling at Kieran he fixed the glove. Admiring the work, Kieran was amazed. It looked as good as new.
In fact, the next time Sir Gerolde put on his spare suit of armor and gloves, he too noticed the one shiny glove. Winking at his blushing son, nothing more was said. But never again did Kieran think, “Oh, he’ll never know.”
© 2011 Teresa Coppens