7 Duncan

Duncan is introduced.

Duncan

 

    “It was hot. No, it was sweltering. No, it was more like the abyssal fires of hell,” Duncan laughed. “I guess it doesn’t help to argue with myself about the heat. It won't change anything,” Duncan panted as he drew water from the deep well.

    "Hurry up with that water, or you’ll have no supper,” Duncan’s mother leaned out the door. “You’re not finished yet!”

    Duncan smiled. He knew she was only joking about the absence of supper, but he didn’t want to take the small chance that she wasn’t.

    “I’ll be there in a minute, Ma,” Duncan shouted back as he put the worn, wooden bar across his shoulders and walked easily back home. This time without spilling a drop from either of the buckets that he carried. Duncan emptied one of the bucket’s contents into the horse trough and carried the other inside.  The table was filled with bowls of steaming food that made his mouth water.

        

    “Dump half of that in the pitcher then go clean up for supper,”  She watched him leave and wondered, for not the first time, whose child he was. Duncan had been found on their doorstep when he was just an infant. She and her husband had raised him the best they could on what money the meager amount of land that they owned produced. She had never told him that he was an orphan, though she had been tempted many times. She also wondered why he hadn’t suspected anything about it. He definitely didn’t resemble his foster father. Though a farmer, her husband had never been a big man. Duncan was a full head taller then her husband and was built like a bear. She suddenly banished those thoughts from her mind. What did it matter where he came from? The gods had given her this boy to rise instead of one of her own. It was a blessing.

    A grinning, half clean face, topped with messy, short blond hair, appeared in the doorway followed by the rest of his body. “How’s this?” Duncan asked.

        

    “Still dirty. Go back and do it right,” She told him, and almost laughed at the fake dejected look her son wore.

    “I’m home!” Paul walked in his house and smelled the air. “Something smells good. I hope it’s for me.”

    “You know it is. It always is,” Gwen said to her husband as she embraced him. “Go wash up with your son, and make sure he’s doing a good job of it this time.”

    After a while, two clean faces came in the kitchen and sat down to eat.

        

    “How was your day, dear?” Gwen asked her husband as she passed the mashed potatoes.

        

    “It was hot for one thing, and then one of the horses threw a shoe. We had to plow by hand and then...”

        

    A loud thud stopped Paul mid-sentence.

        

    “What?” That was all Paul had time to say before he noticed Duncan lying unconscious on the floor.

        

    “Gwen! Hurry get the salts and a wet rag,” Paul yelled at Gwen as he got up and started around the table. “Damn these spells.”

        

    “O Gods! What’s happening? He, He’s shaking all over! Help me Gwen!”

        

    The convulsions were strong. Paul could barely hold him still.

        

    “Put a rag in his mouth before he bites his tongue off!”

        

    Gwen shoved a rag in his mouth and barely got her hand away before he would have bitten it.

        

    “He’s getting worse. Quick! Get the amulet,” Paul said to Gwen as he struggled to keep his son from hurting himself. Gwen rushed off to the bedroom and returned quickly.

        

    “Here, take it.”

    “I can’t. I can barely hold him back as it is. Just tie it around his neck.”

        

    Gwen did as told then stepped back in shock.

        

    “Paul, the amulet. Look at it. I’ve never seen it act this way before.”

        

    The amulet, usually a deep blue color, turned bright red. Great pulses of white energy flowed from Duncan's prone body into it. With each pulse it grew brighter and brighter until the flow stopped. The amulet was glowing an evil red so bright it almost hurt to look at it. Paul had an odd feeling as if it was somehow looking back at him.

        

    “Look! Duncan’s stopped shaking, “Gwen said to her husband as he slowly released the boy.

        

    “I know. What are we going to do now?” Paul asked his equally puzzled wife.

    The amulet had changed yet again. It was black, but not for long. Paul bent over, picked it up, and laid it on the stone floor then he brought his heel down hard against it. There was a cracking noise followed by the sound of grinding glass. Then suddenly it exploded, knocking Paul off his feet and against the wall. A deafening scream burst forth seeming to go on and on before finally faded away. There was a smoldering black patch where the amulet once was. The merchant had been thorough in his directions. Paul didn’t know why he had to do it, but he wasn’t going to take any chances. The merchant had said nothing of an explosion or a shrieking that left his ears ringing.

    “Take that rag out of his mouth and try to wake him up,” Paul said to his wife as he sat again at the supper table and began eating. This matter wasn’t going to change from his going hungry.

    “Paul, I think he’s too worn out to wake up. Why don’t you take him to bed? Gwen said after receiving nothing but moans from Duncan.

        

    Paul didn’t say anything. he just got up and carried Duncan to bed. There would be time enough to talk about this tomorrow when Duncan could hear what had happened.

    “Good night, my son,” Paul said as he put his son to bed his hard eyes glistened with unshed tears.

Author's Note

Once again this is incredibly rough. I'm only uploading these to get them out there and to get some motivation to finish and improve them. So any comments or constructive criticism is welcomed.