A Cry of Honor

“He hung him from the gallows,” she said. “You were supposed to be next.”

“And you?” Godfrey asked.

Gwen shrugged.

“He has plans to marry me off. He sold me to the Nevaruns. Apparently they’re on their way to take me.”

Godfrey sat up, outraged.

“I shall never allow it!” he exclaimed.

“Neither shall I,” she answered. “I will find a way.”

“But without Firth, we have no evidence,” he said. “We have no way to bring him down. Gareth will be free.”

“We will find a way,” she responded. “We will find – ”

Suddenly the cottage filled with light as the door opened and in marched Akorth and Fulton.

“My lady – ” Akorth began, then turned at the sight of Godfrey.

“You son of a bitch!” Akorth cried out in joy to Godfrey. “I knew it! You cheated just about everything in life – I knew you’d cheat death, too!”

“I knew no tankard of ale would take you to your grave!” Fulton added.

Akorth and Fulton ran over, and as Godfrey jumped up from bed, and they all embraced.

Then Akorth turned to Gwen, serious.

“My lady, I’m sorry to disturb you, but we spotted a contingent of soldiers on the horizon. They are rushing for us even now.”

Gwen looked at him with alarm, then ran outside, all of them on her heels, ducking her head, and squinting in the strong sunlight.

The group stood outside, and Gwen looked out at the horizon and watched a small group of Silver riding for the cottage. A half dozen men charged at full speed, and there was no doubt they were racing for them.

Godfrey reached down to draw his sword, but Gwen lay a reassuring hand on his wrist.

“These are not Gareth’s men – they are Kendrick’s. I am sure they come in peace.”

The soldiers reached them and, without pausing, dismounted from their horses and knelt before Gwendolyn.

“My lady,” the lead soldier said. “We bring you great news. We have pushed back the McClouds! Your brother Kendrick is safe, and he has asked me to send you a message: Thor is well.”

Gwen burst into tears at the news, overwhelmed with gratitude and relief, stepping forward and embracing Godfrey, who embraced her back. She felt as if her life had been restored within her.

“They shall all return today,” the messenger continued, “and there will be a great celebration in King’s Court!”

“Great news indeed!” Gwen exclaimed.

“My lady,” came another, deep voice, and Gwen looked over to see a lord, a renowned warrior, Srog, dressed in the distinctive red of the west, a man she had known since youth. He had been close to her father. He knelt before her, and she felt ashamed.

“Please, sir,” she said, “do not kneel before me.”

He was a famous man, a powerful lord who had thousands of soldiers answering to him, and who ruled his own city, Silesia, the stronghold of the West, an unusual city, built right into a cliff on the edge of the Canyon. It was nearly impenetrable. He was one of the few her father ever trusted.

“I have ridden here with these men because I hear that great changes are astir in King’s Court,” he said knowingly. “The throne is unsteady. A new ruler – a firm ruler, a true ruler – must be placed in his stead. Word has reached me of your father’s desire that you should reign. Your father was like a brother to me, and his word is my bond. If that is his wish, then it is mine. I have come to let you know that, if you should rule, then my men will swear allegiance to you. I would urge you to act soon. The events of today have proven that King’s Court needs a new ruler.”

Gwen stood there, taken aback, hardly knowing how to respond. She felt deeply humbled, and a sense of pride, but she also felt overwhelmed, in over her head.

“I thank you, sir,” she said. “I’m grateful for your words, and for your offer. I shall ponder it deeply. For now, I wish only to welcome home my brother – and Thor.”

Srog bowed his head, and a horn sounded on the horizon. Gwen looked up and could already see the dust cloud: a great army was appearing. She raised one hand to block out the sun, and her heart soared. Even from here, she could feel who it was. It was the Silver, the King’s men.

And riding at their head was Thor.

Chapter Eleven

Thor rode with the army, thousands of soldiers heading as one back towards King’s Court, and he felt triumphant. He still could hardly process what had happened. He was proud of what he had done, proud that when things seemed at their lowest point in battle, he had not given into his fear, but stayed and faced those warriors. And he was in shock that he had somehow survived.

The entire battle had felt surreal, and he was so grateful he’d been able to summon his powers – yet he was also confused, since his powers did not always work. He did not understand them, and worse, he did not know where they came from or how to muster then. It made him realize more than ever that he had to learn to rely on his human skills, too – on being the best fighter, the best warrior, he could be. He was starting to realize that to be the best warrior he could be, he needed both sides of himself – the fighter, and the sorcerer – if that’s even what he was.

They rode all night to get back to King’s Court, and Thor was now beyond exhausted, but also exhilarated. The first sun was breaking over the horizon, the vast expanse of sky opened before him in shades of yellows and pinks, and he felt as if he were seeing the world for the first time. He had never felt so alive. He was surrounded by his friends, Reece, O’Connor, Elden, and the twins; by Kendrick, Kolk, and Brom; and by hundreds of members of the Legion, The Silver, and of the King’s army. But instead of being on the outskirts of it, now he rode at the center, embraced by all of them. Indeed, they all looked at him differently since the battle. Now, he saw admiration in the eyes of not just his fellow Legion members, but also in the eyes of the real, full-grown warriors. He had faced the entire McCloud army by himself and turned back the tide of war.

Thor was just happy that he did not let any of his Legion brothers down. He was happy that his friends had escaped mostly unharmed, and he felt a sense of remorse about those who died in the battle. He did not know them, but he wished he could have saved them, too. It had been a bloody, ferocious battle, and even now, as Thor rode, whenever he blinked, images flashed in his head of the fighting, of the various weapons and warriors who had come at him. The McClouds were fierce people, and he had been lucky; who knew if he would be so lucky if they met again. Who knew if he would be able to summon those powers again. He did not know if they would ever come back. He needed answers. And he needed to find his mother. He needed to know who he truly was. He needed to seek out Argon.

Krohn whined behind him, and Thor leaned back and stroked his head, while Krohn licked his palm. Thor was relieved that Krohn was okay. Thor had carried him off the battlefield and had slung him over the back of his horse behind him; Krohn seemed able to walk, but Thor wanted him to rest and recover for the long journey back. The blow Krohn took was mighty, and it looked to Thor that he might have broken a rib. Thor could barely express his gratitude to Krohn, who felt more like a brother to him than an animal, and who had saved his life more than once.

As they crested a hill and the vista of the kingdom spread out before them, there came into view the sprawling, glorious city of King’s Court, with dozens of towers and spires, with its ancient stone walls and its massive drawbridge, with its arched gates, its hundreds of soldiers standing guard on the parapets and on the road, rolling farmland encasing it, and of course King’s Castle in its center. Thor thought immediately of Gwen. She had sustained him in battle; she had given him reason and purpose to live. Knowing that he was set up out there, that he was ambushed, Thor suddenly feared for her fate, too. He hoped she was okay back here, that whatever forces had put into play his treachery had left her untouched.

Thor heard a distant cheer, saw something glimmering in the light, and as he squinted his eyes at the hilltop, he realized that a great crowd was forming on the horizon, before King’s Court, lining the road, waving flags. The people were coming out in force to greet them.

Someone sounded a horn, and Thor realized they were being welcomed home. For the first time in his life, he did not feel like an outsider.

“Those horns, they sound for you,” Reece said, riding beside him, patting him on the back, looking at him with a new respect. “You are the champion of this battle. You are the people’s hero now.”

“Imagine, one of us, a mere Legion member, turning back the entire McCloud Army,” O’Connor added with pride.

“You do great honor to the entire Legion,” Elden said. “Now they will have to take all of us a lot more seriously.”

“Not to mention, you saved all of our lives,” Conval added.

Thor shrugged, filled with pride, but also refusing to allow any of this to get to his head. He knew he was human, frail, vulnerable, like any of them. And that the tide of battle could have gone the other way.

“I just did what I was trained to do,” Thor responded. “What we were all trained to do. I’m no better than anyone else. I just got lucky on this day.”

“I should say that it was more than luck,” Reece responded.

They all continued at a slow trot, down the main road leading to King’s Court, and as they did the road began to fill with people, pouring out from the countryside, cheering, waving banners, the royal blue and yellow of the MacGils. Thor realized that this was becoming a full-fledged parade. The entire court had come out to celebrate them, and he could see the relief and joy in their faces. He could understand why: if the McCloud army had come any closer, they could have destroyed all this.