Crowned

Chapter 11 - Derrick

Derrick open his compass and snapped it closed. Open. Closed. Open. Closed.

"Okay, that's enough for today!" Derrick stepped forward to intercept the two, sparring young boys. "You've made a good amount of progress today. Go back home and eat supper."

"Awww, come on, Teacher. I've almost got him beat!"

He rubbed his face with his hands. He was tired and the gray sky did nothing to lighten his spirits. It had been a long day. He woke up, finished all of his farm chores around lunch time, arrived at the village center and taught the boys basic reading and writing, and now the basics of defense.

His stomach growled. Father would probably have supper prepared by the time he reached home.

The two boys made no move to stop their fighting. Would they ever listen?

"Break it up. Or no lessons tomorrow." Derrick crossed his arms.

Overall, he was pleased with his lifestyle. He finally paid off his father's farm thanks to the small income he made from teaching the boys. He felt a sense of accomplishment and purpose in his life - teaching the boys to read, write, and defend themselves was a noble task.

It didn't do any good to perpetuate rampant illiteracy. Now the boys could grow up to be influential figures in the world. They wouldn't be stuck as farmer boys. Not like he was.

The boy whacked one last time before relinquishing his wooden dowel.

"Ow! No fair!" The battered child held his head in his arms, even though it wasn't his head that got hit. "He cheated!"

"Hand it over, Richard." Derrick held out his hand.

Richard slammed the dowel into Derrick's hand. "When I grow up, nobody is going to tell me what to do!"

"Good luck with that." Derrick scoffed and took the dowels away. "Even knights answer to the King."

"Then I'll become King." Richard crossed his arms and followed Derrick.

Derrick held back a grin. "I heard there's a contest at the capital. You could marry the princess and become king."

"Really?" Richard's eyes lit up. "How do I get there?"

"First go home, eat a lot of food, work really hard, and then you can ask somebody for directions to the capital." Derrick said.

"Okay!" Richard ran off, his friend not far behind.

Should I feel bad for misleading him? He'd forget about becoming king within a few minutes of returning home. He hoped.

Derrick returned the dowels to the storage barrel.

"Excuse me. Might you be Sir Derrick?"

Derrick whipped around.

A mounted courier looked Derrick up and down.

Nobody had called him Sir for two years. Memories from the castle flashed through his mind. What could this man want?

"That's me."

"I have a royal letter from the King for you." He held out a parchment.

Derrick snatched the letter. It was definitely addressed to him. "Thank you." He nodded at the courier.

The courier made no move to leave.

"I was ordered to wait until you made your decision." He explained.

Decision? Why did the King contact him? Was it because he didn't respond to Katherine's letters? Was he going to be beheaded for his insolence? No, he could just claim he never received them. He made a mental note to destroy the letters as soon as he got home. Derrick tore open the seal.