Okay somehow I did it. I won at NaNoWriMo for a second time in a row. It was much tougher than last time. Like I had mentioned before, I have more rules to follow. I admit I wrote a better story and posted the first page below.
Dunghill Dullop backed further into the shadows. With his spine against the wall he inched toward the library door. Murmurs of the duty guards echoed from the main hall. He froze in place until the whispering stopped. Swallowing hard he crept along the rough wall. When his mother noticed how snagged his clothes were he would get hell, but Dung kept going because time was running out.
Why had he taught himself to read? Why had he borrowed another book from the king’s library? Why was one book never enough? Why?
Boots resounded on the floor as the guards marched between Dung’s hiding place and the large oak door. The men paused.
“You smell that, Harold?”
“Damn stables when the wind blows just right it comes in to knock us out.”
“Let’s come back later.”
Hard heels clomped along the hallway, getting quieter with each step.
Funny, Dung thought, I don’t smell anything.
The boy tightened his grip on the leather cover, and with swift assurance he came around a corner, then skidded to a stop. Without thinking he slipped behind a suit of armor and tried to quieten his breath. Prince William stood by the library door. He looked one way then the other. A smile, the prince reserved for pushing servant girls out of his way, crossed his face. He slowly opened the library door and went in.
Dung couldn’t stay put. He went to the open door. Peeked around the sharp wooden edge. The prince stood on a ladder pulling out what everyone knew was the king’s favorite book. It had a burgundy cover, with large gold lettering. Something Dung had always wanted to borrow, but was too afraid to take.
After all, all this borrowing would be called stealing if the wrong person caught him in the act.
Prince William opened the book and ripped out one page, two pages, three. Dung wanted to scream, to beg the teenager to stop, but he knew the prince could do what he liked when he liked. Who would listen to a boy from the stables? Dung went back behind the armor wishing the king would never die and that that evil boy would never come to power.
You tell me, How’d I do?