A Cry of Honor

by Morgan Rice

  Erec nodded back.

  “I vow,” he said solemnly.

  She looked into his eyes, then finally, said:

  “I am daughter to a king.”

  Erec, despite himself, was amazed at the news. He had sensed it, but to hear her say the words surprised him. Now he was infused with a burning desire to know which king she hailed from; why she had left; why she had chosen to become a maidservant; what had happened in her past; why the secrecy. He was dying to know more.

  But he had vowed, and as a man of honor, he would not break his vow.

  “Very well, my lady,” he said. “I shall not ask you again. But know this: whatever it is that happened in your past, I am here to protect you now, and I love you more than my heart can say. You and I shall start a new life together. One that you shall be proud to speak of for the rest of your days.”

  She broke into a wide smile.

  “I would like that,” she said. “I would like to start life over again.”

  Alistair leaned in and kissed him, and they held it for a long time, as a light breeze caressed them.

  “Every night,” she said, “in my servitude, I prayed for a man like you. Someone to appear and rescue me from all of this. But I never dreamed someone as great as you would arrive. Every prayer I have ever had has been answered in you, and I shall spend the rest of my life in your devotion.”

  They kissed again, and as twilight rose, they lay down on the grass, kissing in each other’s arms. And for the first time in as long as he could remember, Erec felt as if everything were right in the world.

  *

  Erec woke at the crack of dawn, sensing something was off. He looked all around, alert. He still held Alistair in his arms, as he had all night long, and could see the content smile on her face. He felt deeply relaxed having her with him. The trees were still, the lake gentle, and all he could hear was the sound of the first birds beginning to wake.

  Yet still, the warrior instinct within Erec told him that something was wrong.

  He jumped to his feet, threw on his chainmail, and walked over to Warkfin, who he could see was prancing just the slightest bit, his ears moving back. Warkfin sensed it, too: something was off.

  As Erec stood there, he began to feel the slightest tremor in the earth, and he knew something was happening. He quickly hurried over and roused Alistair.

  “What is it, my Lord?” she asked, waking with concern in her eyes.

  “I do not know,” he responded. “But we must move quickly.”

  He picked her up and mounted her on the back of the horse, then jumped up himself, mounted on the front, and kicked it.

  They rode down the forest trail, to the top of a small hill, where he had an advantageous lookout over the hills below. As they reached the top he stopped, and was shocked by what he saw.

  Hundreds of men in armor rode in his direction, wearing the distinctive shiny green armor of that Lord from Baluster. They had followed his trail. They were not letting it go: they wanted vengeance. This Lord was even more powerful than Erec had thought: even in death, his men would not let it go.

  Erec realized in an instant that he had a war on his hands.

  He dismounted, turned and looked up at Alistair.

  “Listen to me carefully,” he instructed, intense. “You must ride far away from here, before this army arrives. Take the path through the forest, and stay north. It will bring you to Savaria. Seek out the Duke and my old friend Brandy. They will take care of you. You will be safe there.”

  She sat there on the prancing horse and looked down at him with terror.

  “But what of you, my Lord?” she asked.

  “I must stay here and confront this army,” he said.

  Her eyes opened wide in panic, as she looked from Erec to the horizon and back again.

  “But my Lord, you are terribly outnumbered,” she said. “You cannot survive!”

  He shook his head grimly.

  “Whether I survive or not makes little difference,” he said. “What matters is that you survive. If they kill me here, today, they may be satisfied and turn back; and if you are safe within the gates of Savaria, they will not pursue you. But if you stay here with me, you will die—or worse, be captured. If I die, I will die content knowing that you are safe.”

  She looked down at him, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “My Lord, please don’t do this!” she pleaded. “Why can we not flee together?”

  Erec shook his head.

  “I swore an oath of honor,” he said. “As a member of The Silver, honor is my badge. I can never run, from any foe, for any reason. I am sorry, but my honor obligates me.”

  He came close to her, his heart breaking to see her distress.

  “Know how much I love you,” he urged. “Now go!” he called out, and slapped Warkfine hard, startling him and forcing him to take off, Alistair hanging onto the reins, but looking back over her shoulder, weeping.

  “MY LORD!” she screamed.

  Warkfin was well-trained, and he knew what Erec wanted, and he knew he would not stop until he took her far from here, to the Duke’s Palace. Erec felt a sense of ease watching her ride off, knowing she would be far from the battle.

  Erec turned, looked back out over the hill, and surveyed the army, getting closer and closer. The rumble could be heard even from here, and he steeled himself for battle.

  He drew his sword, the clang reverberating in the hills. High up he heard the screech of a bird. It was days like this that he had been born for. He might die on this day, he knew. But he would at least die facing the enemy, fearlessly, in one great clash of honor.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

  Thor stood with the huge entourage of Legion and Silver as they all finished gathering their weapons from the Hall of Arms, gathering their belongings from the barracks, and preparing to leave King’s Court for good. It was a huge and growing force, and Reece, O’Connor, Elden and the twins joined Thor, Gwendolyn and Godfrey as they all spent their final moments gathering whatever they could carry. Together, they all walked from the hall, out the great doors for the last time, Krohn whining at their side.

  The huge, armed group wound its way into the plaza of King’s Court, towards King’s Gate, beyond which was the drawbridge and the road that would lead them away from King’s Court forever. As they went, a small army in and of themselves, the very face of what would be the new MacGil court, people gathered all around and watched them go, eyes opened with wonder and fear. Word had spread of the rift, and as they went, some people watched in wonder, while others joined their group, deciding to abandon Gareth’s court and go with them. It was heart-wrenching. Thor felt as if the kingdom were being split in two with each passing step.

  As they neared the stone gate, the final exit, Thor took one last look back over his shoulder at King’s Court, at this place he had grown to love, to call home. He hated that Gareth was ruling, that he had ruined this place for all of them, had usurped it as his own, this place that had been ruled by MacGils for seven hundred years. There was nothing that they could do about it.

  Gwen squeezed his hand, and Thor looked into her eyes and could see her relief to be leaving, and to be with him. He felt the same. At least she was safe. They walked together, hand in hand, proudly, walking through the archway.

  “Do you think we shall ever return?” he asked Gwendolyn.

  She looked out sadly.

  “I don’t know,” she answered.

  “Not with this King,” Reece chimed in. “If we ever return, it will be on our terms.”

  Suddenly a horn sounded, and pandemonium broke out all around them.

  Thor spun with the others, and saw people swarming about in every direction, as an agitated buzz spread through the streets. Several messengers, out of breath, came running towards Thor and the others.

  “The Sword!” one of them screamed, frantic. “It’s been stolen!”

  An outraged gasp spread through the crowd, followed by a long murm
ur.

  “Speak clearly man,” Kolk yelled at the man. “What do you mean?”

  “The Destiny Sword! It’s gone! And the Canyon—the Shield is down!”

  An outraged cry rose up through the streets, a cry of panic, as all the soldiers turned and looked at each other. Thor looked at the others, could see the fear in their faces, and he felt it too.

  The shield was down. They were all vulnerable, defenseless, the entire Ring. There was no longer anything standing between the Empire and them. The Empire’s million man army could enter, could attack at any moment.

  “But how is it possible?” Reece asked.

  “The Destiny Sword has remained at King’s Castle for seven generations!” Godfrey called out.

  “It would take ten men to even hoist it!” Brom yelled. “Where could it have gone? Who could have taken it?”

  “They have caught the thieves!” a messenger yelled back. “They are in the town square even now, about to be hung!”

  As one, Thor and the others all ran across the plaza, turning down a street that led to the large, open square in the center of King’s Court.

  A huge mob swarmed around the scaffold, on which four men stood bound, nooses about their necks. The men looked panicked, desperate, as they looked out at hundreds of people.

  On the far side of the square stood Gareth, with Kultin and his fighting force, looking down at the criminals. Thor and the men entered on the other side of the court, and it was utter pandemonium. Finally, a horn blew, and a silence fell over the group.

  “Admit what you have done!” yelled out an executioner.

  “We are part of a group that stole the Destiny Sword!” one of them screamed.

  The crowd broke out into an outraged murmur, and finally fell silent.

  “And tell us where the sword is!” the executioner cried out.

  “The rest of our group has taken it far from here. They have been carrying it all night. They are already across the Western Crossing of the Canyon, and have already boarded a ship. They are taking it into the Empire. As we speak, it is already across the sea, in a foreign and hostile land. You will never get it back!”

  The crowd cried out again, in an outraged murmur.

  “Silence!” Gareth screamed.

  Slowly, the crowd quieted.

  “And what was your reason for stealing the sword?” Gareth called out. “What is its destination?”

  The criminals stayed silent this time, refusing to speak.

  Finally, one of them lifted his head.

  “We have vowed to never tell!”

  The crowd broke out in another murmur, until finally Gareth stepped forward, with his entourage of men, and faced the executioners.

  The crowd fell silent.

  “Kill these men!” he commanded the executioner.

  The crowd broke out into a cheer.

  “But my Liege, you promised—” one of the criminals began to cry.

  Gareth nodded, and before the man could finish speaking, the floor dropped out and they all hanged.

  The crowd cheered in satisfaction, as the corpses dangled in the air.

  The crowd began to disperse, in an agitated stir.

  “The Destiny Sword stolen,” O’Connor whispered.

  “It is unthinkable,” Elden said.

  “The shield is down,” Conval said.

  “We are defenseless,” Conven added.

  Kolk, Brom and the men huddled close around Thor, Gwendolyn, Godfrey and all of the others.

  “We must hurry from this place,” Kolk said. “We must get as far from King’s Court as possible and fortify our new home.”

  “That is pointless now,” Brom said. “If the shield is down, we are not safe anywhere. If the Empire invades, the Ring will be overrun by a million men. Nothing will stop them.”

  “What we need is to get the shield back up again,” Kolk said. “And for that, we need the Sword.”

  “But you heard the thieves,” Reece said. “It is already far from here. Deep inside the Empire.”

  “Then we must go and get it back,” Brom said.

  With his words the huge group of knights fell silent, looking at each other grimly. For the first time, Thor could see fear in their faces.

  “Is there anyone among you men that will volunteer to venture into the Empire and search for the sword?” Brom called out, facing the Silver.

  The group of knights, all Silver, the finest warriors Thor had ever known, all stood there, silent. None of them stepped forward.

  “My lord, it would be futile,” one of them said. “You know that. A small band of warriors would never survive such a deep foray into the Empire. It has never been done before in the history of the Ring.”

  “And we don’t even know where the Sword is!” another said. “The Wilds stretch millions of miles. It could be anywhere!”

  “It would be a suicide mission,” said another. “There is nothing we can do but brace ourselves for an attack.”

  “I will go,” Thor said, stepping forward into the huge circle of men.

  They all fell silent, so silent, one could hear a pin drop.

  Thor could feel all the stares, and he felt himself racing with energy, felt more alive than he ever had. He knew it was crazy, reckless, that the chances were impossible. But he also felt that this was what he was born for, felt proud of himself for not giving into his fear. It wasn’t about surviving. It was about honor.

  “You have a big heart, Thorgrinson,” Kolk said. “And you do the Legion proud. But you would not survive. Not even you.”

  “It is not about surviving,” Thor said. “It’s about doing what is right. For our kingdom. For all of us.”

  The men remained silent.

  “But no one else volunteers to go with you,” Brom said. “Even among these brave and fine warriors. And I cannot blame them.”

  “Then I will go alone,” Thor said, resolving himself. He was determined.

  “I will join him!” came a voice.

  Thor turned to see Reece step forward, beside him.

  “And I!” said O’Connor.

  “And I!” said Elden.

  “And we!” said the twins.

  Thor felt emboldened as all of his friends stepped forward, the group of six standing as one, ready to face death together.

  Kolk shook his head.

  “You are crazy, all of you,” Kolk said, “and the bravest men I’ve ever seen.”

  Brom stepped forward, placed a hand on Thor’s shoulder, and looked him in the eye.

  “Whoever you are, boy,” he said, “you do your ancestors proud.”

  He examined Thor deeply, as if deciding.

  “Go then,” Brom finally said. “Find the sword. Bring it home. The fate of our kingdom rests on you.”

  “We shall leave King’s Court and journey to Silesia and form a new court in your absence,” Godfrey said. “We will await your return. Be quick about it. And don’t die.”

  The men dispersed, and Thor stood there, feeling his world changing, reeling all around him. Then he felt a hand on his wrist.

  Thor looked over to see Gwendolyn standing beside him, tears in her eyes. His heart broke at the sight of her.

  “Before you leave, talk with me a minute,” she said.

  Thor walked with her, stepping away from the crowd, and they took privacy behind a stone wall. She looked up at him, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

  “I don’t want you to go,” she said. “Please. Not after all we’ve been through.”

  “But if I don’t, the shield will stay down,” Thor said. “The Empire will attack. We will all be finished.”

  She shook her head.

  “We are all finished anyway,” she said. “The Sword is gone. The shield will never go up again. You will never find it. You will just die alone out there. If we are to die, I would rather that we die together.”

  Thor shook his head.

  “Then your death, all of our deaths, would be on my head, be
cause I had not tried to find the Sword. I must do this Gwendolyn. You, of all people, must understand. Please. I do not want to leave you. Know how much I love you. I wish for nothing more than to stay by your side. But I must do this. For our kingdom. For the Ring. For honor. Don’t you understand?”

  She nodded slowly, looking down at the ground, wiping her tears.

  Thor felt the ring his mother had given him, burning inside his shirt, and at that moment, he wanted more than anything to get down on one knee and to propose to Gwendolyn, to ask her to be his wife. A part of him felt that this was the moment.

  But another part of him felt it would not be fair to her to propose. He was about to leave, to head off into what was a likely death. If she were to be married to him, that would leave her a widow, forever. It would not be fair to her.

  Thor decided to keep the ring where it was, and as soon as he returned—if he returned—he would propose to her then. Then, they could live together forever.

  He reached down, raised her chin and looked into her eyes. He smiled down at her, wiping away her tears, and leaned in and kissed her.

  “I love you, Gwendolyn,” he said. “More than I could ever say.”

  She choked up in tears, crying, and threw her arms around him and hugged him tight.

  “I hate you for going,” she said.

  “You will be safe this time,” Thor said, his heart breaking. “You will be with all these men. You will run your own court. An entire army will be protecting you. No one can hurt you now.”

  “It is not for myself that I fear,” she said. “It is for you.”

  Thor finally pulled her back, and looked deeply into her eyes.

  “I will return to you, my love,” he said “Not the moon and the stars and the heavens in the sky can keep me from you.”

  She smiled up weakly, a tear running down her cheek.

  “I wish I could believe that,” she answered.

  CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

  King McCloud burst from his castle as the second sun was setting in the sky and ran across the plaza of his royal court, filled with rage. He leapt onto his horse, followed by dozens of his loyal men, and kicked, taking off at a gallop through his small city, through one of the arched gates, and onto the dusty road leading up the mountain. He kicked the beast harder and harder, outrage burning through his veins. He had just received the news that his son had escaped, his bride with him, had broken free from his grasp before he’d had a chance to torture and kill them both and make a public display of them.