Kevin Hanna
Mr.Stefanyak
Advanced English
3/23
The Young King
It was a snowy November, a few days after my 13th birthday. I was to be crowned King after my father died in a campaign against our old friend King Ivo. A genuinely tragic loss, I thought to myself. What am I supposed to do now? I can't run an entire kingdom. How will the townspeople react? My coronation was set for tomorrow; maybe I can get some support from my father's court.  I chose the clothes I wanted to wear a striped tunic with my house's emblem on it and my favourite red hose. I walked inside the throne room, which consisted of many nobles from across my lands, and a few from neighbouring areas, here to pay their respects. Their mysterious faces were glaring at me as I walk up to my newly acquired throne. What would Father do, I thought to myself. I took a seat on my large metallic throne, icy to the touch.
 "Shall we begin?"
 I replied, "Yes, Ser Hoster."
Ser Hoster, the wealthy and respected knight from House Devlin, my father's childhood friend, was set to be my hand. During the entire ceremony, my mind was clouded. All I could remember is the dense, slightly oversized crown that now lay on my head. My reign has begun.
The first few months were slow. It took a relatively long while until I got used to my new lifestyle. My court consists of competent leaders and high-status individuals. Although many of my vassals in my court were in my father's, I could tell they thought differently of me. Many think I'm not fit to be the ruler, but I will prove them wrong. The death of my father won't be taken lightly.
     I was around 15 when I had my first experience of war. Near the end of winter, we received reports that a vassal of Ivo, the feared Lord Weiman, crossed into our territory and plundered a village. I decided to bring one of my most trusted vassals, Lord Braxton Varley, to come along and help take care of the threat. Although my men are highly trained, we highly underestimated the enemy. During the battle, Lord Varley took an arrow to the chest, mortally wounding him. All I could feel was anger. I unsheathed my sword and ran directly into the dust towards screeches of death. The enemy running for their lives, being cut down. No mercy.
It's been three years since my father was slain. Our armies are beginning to prepare for the battle looming ahead. After the fight against the enemy war party, the nobles have all backed me as the true King. Together, we have a force of around forty-six thousand highly trained troops. Ivo has allied with a nearby kingdom ruled by a King named Erryk. As I was walking through the courtyard, I received a message from my messenger, who was fatigued.
"Your Grace, the war has officially begun. We must bring together the armies and begin our campaign."
"Very well," I said, "I've waited so long for this moment. Send for the vassals of the realm, and we will begin our march in the summer."
I secretly sent my messenger to a nearby kingdom that was supportive of my father and his cause. Maybe they will help us, I thought.
It was early June when the army was assembled. All of my nobles are here. Houses Byrch, Celtigar, Dustin, and Hightower being the most notable. There are over 25 lords, and each brought with them their retainers and armies. While on the march, we spotted many streaks of smoke.
“The battle is soon coming,” I said.
‘Yes...yes it is, ready the men!” Exclaimed Ser Hoster.
I’ve spent three long, arduous years preparing for this day. I will not fail. I cannot fail.

    The battlefield is set. A plain, flat terrain which housed the two opposing armies. Our spies estimated 10,000 enemy troops. We stood opposite from each other, staring into the eyes of our enemies.
In the distance, we heard a blaring horn.
“Ready yourselves men, as today we will end the reign of a tyrant!”
The cheering of my men can be heard all around the area.
Instantly the cavalry rushed to meet the opposition. Their polearms colliding with the body of the enemy. Many horses with no riders can be seen after a few minutes. The ground flooded with the bodies of men from both sides. After a strategic retreat, my archers began firing arrows onto the enemy infantry. It looked as if it was raining arrows, killing many as they cowered under their undersized shields. After a long barrage of arrows, I lead the charge of the remaining cavalry and my own personal guard straight into the heart of their line. Their lines collapsing, I went looking for the coward King Ivo. Many blades swinging at me, but with no avail. Screams of death all around. I see him.
“Ivo! End this bloodshed, I challenge you to single combat. Only one more person needs to die today.
“Enough boy, you are just a mere child. I will gut you as I did you father.” Ivo said. “I accept.”
The two armies parted, leaving a circle in the middle of the blood-filled battlefield. I grip my sword and my battered shield. My crown, which now has a few red spots on it, still lies on my sweaty head. I rush up to the warrior king and instantly slash at him. It was blocked easily. All I could think about was my father. This man caused me and my family so much pain and suffering. It all ends now. Following a block of one of Ivo’s attacks, I instantly jab my sword into his thick thigh. He shrieks out in pain but continues to fight. It has been five tiring minutes, my stamina constantly depleting. I let my guard down and feel a streak of cold, icy steel go through the skin of my arm. After he goes on the offence, I pull out my father’s dagger and shove it into his stomach. He lay on the ground until I pierce his heart with my sword. He drew his final breath and lay still. Dead.
His troops all drop their weapons, some grieving the death of their beloved king. My men are rejoicing, hugging their friends, and some even embracing their family. I collapsed soon after the battle was over. I was awakened to the sight of my dearest advisers and vassals. We have won.