by Morgan Rice
“Not to worry, young one,” he said. “I’m going with you.”
“Really?” Reece asked.
“It is tradition for a member of the Silver to accompany members of the Legion on their first patrol. I volunteered.”
Erec turned and looked down at Thor.
“After all, you helped me yesterday.”
Thor felt his heart warm, buoyed by Erec’s presence. He also felt lifted up in the eyes of his friends. Here he was, being accompanied by the greatest knight of the kingdom, as they headed towards the Canyon. Much of his fear was falling away.
“Of course, I shall not go out on patrol with you,” Erec added. “But I will lead you across the bridge, and to your camp. It will be your duty to venture out on patrol, alone, from there.”
“It is a great honor, sire,” Reece said.
“Thank you,” O’Connor and Elden echoed.
Erec looked down at Thor and smiled.
“After all, if you’re going to be my first squire, I can’t let you die just yet.”
“First?” Thor asked, his heart skipping a beat.
“Feithgold broke his leg in the jousting match. He will be out for at least eight weeks. You are my first squire now. And our training might as well begin, shan’t it?”
“Of course, sire,” Thor responded.
Thor’s mind was swimming. He could hardly believe it. For the first time in a while, he felt as if luck was finally turning his way. Now he was first squire to the greatest knight of all. He felt as if he had leapfrogged over all his friends; he could hardly believe it.
The five of them continued on, heading west into the setting sun, Erec walking slowly on his horse beside them.
“I assume you have been to the Canyon, sire?” Thor asked.
“Many times,” Erec responded. “My first patrol, I was your age, in fact.”
“And how did you find it?” Reece asked.
All four boys turned and stared at him as they went, rapt with attention. Erec rode on for some time in silence, looking straight ahead, his jaw set.
“Your first time is an experience you never forget. It is hard to explain. It is a strange and foreign and mystical and beautiful place. On the other side lie unimaginable dangers. The bridge to cross it is long and steep. There are many of us patrolling—but always, you feel alone. It is nature at its best. It crushes man to be in its shadow. Our men have patrolled it for hundreds of years. It is a rite of passage. You do not fully understand danger without it; you cannot become a knight without it.”
He fell back into silence. The four boys looked at each other, queasy.
“Should we expect a skirmish on the other side then?” Thor asked.
Erec shrugged.
“Anything is possible, once you reach the Wilds. Unlikely. But possible.”
Erec looked down at Thor.
“Do you want to be a great squire, and one day, a great knight?” he asked, looking right at Thor.
Thor’s heart beat faster.
“Yes, sire, more than anything.”
“Then there are things you must learn,” Erec said. “Strength is not enough; agility is not enough; being a great fighter is not enough. There is something else, something more important than all of them.”
Erec fell back into silence, and Thor could wait no longer.
“What?” Thor asked. “What is most important?”
“You must be of a sound spirit,” Erec replied. “Never afraid. You must enter the darkest wood, the most dangerous battle, with complete equanimity. You must carry this equanimity with you, always, whenever and wherever you go. Never fearful, always on guard. Never restful, always diligent. You don’t have the luxury of expecting others to protect you anymore. You’re no longer a citizen. You’re now one of the King’s men. The greatest qualities for a warrior are courage, and equanimity. Be not afraid of danger. Expect it. But do not seek it.
“This Ring we live in,” Erec added, “our kingdom. It seems as if we, with all our men, protect it against the hordes of the world. But we do not. We are protected only by the Canyon, and only by the sorcery within it. We live in a sorcerer’s ring. Don’t forget it. We live and die by magic. There is no security here, boy, on either side of the canyon. Take away sorcery, take away magic, and we have nothing.”
They walked on in silence for quite some time, as Thor turned Erec’s words over in his head, again and again. He felt as if Erec were giving him a hidden message: he felt as if he were telling him that, whatever power he had, whatever magic he might be summoning, it was nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, it was something to be proud of, and the source of all energy in the kingdom. Thor felt better. He had felt he was being sent out here, to the Canyon, as a punishment for his using his magic, and had felt guilty about it; but now he felt that his powers, whatever they were, might become a source of pride.
As the other boys drifted ahead, and Erec and Thor fell back, Erec looked down at him.
“You’ve already managed to make some powerful enemies at Court,” he said, an amused smile on his face. “As many enemies as you have friends, it seems.”
Thor reddened, shamed.
“I don’t know how, sire. I didn’t intend to.”
“Enemies are not gained by intentions. They are often gained by envy. You have managed to create a great deal of it. That is not necessarily a bad thing. You are the center of much speculation.”
Thor scratched his head, trying to understand.
“But I don’t know why.”
Erec still looked amused.
“The queen herself is chief among your adversaries. You have somehow managed to get on her wrong side.”
“My mother?” Reece asked, turning. “Why?”
“That is the very question I’ve been wondering myself,” Erec said.
Thor felt terrible. The Queen? An enemy? What had he done to her? He could hardly conceive it. How could he even be important enough for her to take notice of? He hardly knew what was happening around him.
Suddenly, something dawned on him.
“Is she the reason that I was sent out here? To the Canyon?” he asked.
Erec turned and looked straight ahead, his face growing serious.
“She might be,” he said, contemplative. “She just might be.”
Thor wondered at the extent and depth of the enemies he had made. He had stumbled into a court he knew nothing about. He had just wanted to belong. He had just followed his passion and his dream, and had done whatever he could to achieve it. He did not think that by doing so, he might raise envy or jealousy. He turned it over and over in his mind, like a riddle, but could not get to the bottom of it.
As Thor was mulling these thoughts, they reached the top of a knoll, and as the site spread out before them, all thoughts of anything else fell away. Thor’s breath was taken away—and not just by the strong gust of wind.
There, stretching out before them, as far as the eye could see, lay the Canyon. It was the first time Thor had ever seen it, and the site shocked him so thoroughly, he stood rooted to his place, unable to move. It was the grandest and most majestic thing he had ever seen. The huge chasm in the earth seemed to stretch for eternity, and was spanned only by a single, narrow bridge, lined with soldiers. The bridge seemed to stretch to the end of the earth itself.
The Canyon was alight with greens and blues from the second setting sun, and they bounced off its walls, sparkling. As he felt his legs again, Thor began to walk with the others, closer and closer to the bridge, and was able to look down, deep into the Canyon’s cliffs: they seemed to plummet down into the bowels of the earth. Thor could not even see the bottom, and didn’t know if that was because it had no bottom, or if it was because it was covered in mist. The rock that lined the cliffs looked to be a million years old, formed with patterns that storms must have left centuries before. It was the most primordial place he had ever seen. He had no idea his planet was so vast, so vibrant, so alive.
It was as if he
had come to the beginning of creation.
Thor heard the others gasp all around him, too.
The thought of the four of them patrolling this Canyon seemed laughable. They were dwarfed even by the site of it.
As they walked towards the bridge, soldiers stiffened on either side, at attention, making way for the new patrol. Thor felt his heart quicken.
“I don’t see how the four of us can possibly patrol this?” O’Connor said.
Elden snickered.
“There are tons of patrols beside us. We are merely one cog in the machine.”
As they walked across the bridge, the only sound to be heard was that of the whipping wind, and of their boots, and Erec’s horse, walking along. The hoofs left a hollow and reassuring sound, the only real thing that Thor could hang onto in this surreal place.
None of the soldiers, who all stiffened at attention in Erec’s presence, said a word as they stood guard. They must have passed hundreds of them.
As they went, Thor could not help but notice, on either side of them, impaled on spikes every few feet along the railing, were the heads of barbarian invaders. Some still fresh, still dripping with blood.
Thor looked away. It made it all too real. He did not know if he was ready for this. He tried not to imagine the many skirmishes that must have produced those heads, the lives that had been lost, what awaited them on the other side. For the first time, he wondered if they would make it back. Was that the purpose of this whole expedition? To kill him off?
He looked over the edge, at the endlessly disappearing cliffs, and heard the screech of a distant bird; it was a sound he had never heard before. He wondered what kind of bird it was, and what other exotic animals lurked on the other side.
But it was not really the animals that bothered him, or even the heads on spikes. More than anything, it was the feeling of this place. He could not tell if it was the mist, or the howling wind, or the vastness of the open sky, or the light of the setting sun—but something about this place was so surreal, it transported him. Enveloped him. He felt a heavy magical energy hanging over them. He wondered if it was the protection of the Sword, or some other ancient energy. He felt as if he were crossing not just a mass of land, but crossing into another realm of existence.
He could hardly believe that, for the first time in his life, he would spend the night, unprotected, on the other side of the Canyon.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
As the sun began to fade from the sky—a dark scarlet mixed with blue that seemed to envelop the universe—Thor walked with Reece, O’Connor, and Elden down the trail that led into the forest of the Wilds. Thor had never been so on edge in his life. Now it was just the four of them, Erec having remained behind at camp, and despite all their bickering with each other, Thor sensed they now needed each other more than ever. They had to bond, and to learn how to do it on their own, without Erec. Before they’d parted, Erec had told them not to worry, that he would stay at base and hear their screams, and would be there if they needed him.
That gave Thor little assurance now.
As the woods narrowed in on them, Thor looked around at this exotic place, the forest floor lined with thorns and strange fruits. The branches were gnarled and ancient, nearly touching each other, so close that Thor needed to duck his head in places. They had thorns instead of leaves, and they protruded everywhere. Yellow vines hung down in places, and Thor had made the mistake of reaching up to push a vine from his face only to realize it was a snake. He had yelled and jumped out of the way, just in time.
He had expected the others to laugh at him, but they, too, were humbled with fear. All around them were the foreign noises of exotic animals. Some were low and guttural, some high-pitched and shrieking. Some of them echoed from far-off; others seemed impossibly close. Twilight came on too fast, as they all headed deeper into the forest. Thor felt certain that at any moment they could be ambushed. As the sky grew darker, it was getting harder to even see the faces of his compatriots. He gripped his sword hilt so tightly, his knuckles white. His other hand clutched his slingshot. He saw the others gripping their weapons, too.
Thor willed himself to be strong, to be confident and courageous as a good knight should. As Erec had instructed him. It was better for him to face death now, he figured, in the face, then to always live in fear of it. He tried to lift his chin and walk boldly forward, even increasing his pace and going a few feet out in front of the others. His heart was pounding, but he felt as if he were facing his fears.
“What are we patrolling for exactly?” Thor asked.
As soon as he said it, he realized it might be a dumb question, and he expected Elden to make fun of him.
But to his surprise, there was only silence in return. He looked over and saw the whites of Elden’s eyes, and realized he was even more afraid. This, at least, gave Thor some confidence. Thor was younger and smaller than him, and he was not giving in to his fear.
“The enemy, I guess,” Reece finally said.
“And who is that?” Thor asked. “What does he look like?”
“There are all sorts of enemies out here,” Reece said. “We are in the Wilds now. There are nations of savages, and all manner and races of evil creatures.”
“But what is the point of our patrol?” O’Connor asked. “What difference can we possibly make by doing this? Even if we kill one or two, is that going to stop the million behind it?”
“We are not here to make a dent,” Reece answered. “We are here to make our presence known, on behalf of our King. To let them know not to come too close to the Canyon.”
“I think it would make more sense to wait till they try to cross it and deal with them then,” O’Connor said.
“No,” Reece said. “It is better to deter them from even approaching. That is why these patrols. At least, that is what my older brother says.”
Thor’s heart was pounding, as they continued deeper into the forest.
“How far are we supposed to go?” Elden asked, speaking up for the first time, his voice quivering.
“Don’t you remember what Kolk said? We have to retrieve the red banner and bring it back,” Reece said. “That is our proof that we’ve gone far enough for our patrol.”
“I have not seen a banner anywhere,” O’Connor said. “In fact, I can barely see a thing. How are we supposed to get back?”
No one answered. Thor was thinking the same thing. How can they possibly find a banner in the black of night? He started to wonder if this was all a trick, an exercise, another one of the psychological games the Legion played on the boys. He thought again of Erec’s words, of his many enemies at court. He had a sinking feeling about this patrol. Were they being set up?
Suddenly there came a horrific screeching noise, followed by movement inside the branches—and something large ran across their path. Thor pulled his sword, and the others did, too. The sound of swords leaving scabbards, of metal on metal, filled the air, as they all stood there, holding their swords out in front of them, looking nervously in every direction.
“What was that?” Elden cried out, his voice cracking with fear.
The animal once again crossed their path, racing from one side of the forest to the other, and this time they got a good look at it.
Thor’s shoulders relaxed, as he recognized it.
“Just a deer,” he said, greatly relieved. “The strangest looking deer I’ve seen—but a deer nonetheless.”
Reece laughed, a reassuring noise, a laugh too mature for his age. As Thor heard it, he realized it was the laugh of a future King. He felt better having his friend at his side. And then, he laughed, too. All that fear, all for nothing.
“I never knew that your voice cracked when you caved in to fear,” Reece mocked Elden, laughing again.
“If I could see you, I would pummel you,” Elden said.
“I can see you fine,” Reece said. “Come try it.”
Elden glared back at him, but didn’t dare make a move. Instead he put his sw
ord back in his scabbard, as did the others. Thor admired Reece for giving Elden a hard time; Elden mocked everybody else—he deserved to get some back himself. He admired Reece’s fearlessness in doing so: after all, Elden was still twice their size.
Thor finally felt some of the tension leaving his body. They’d had their first encounter, the ice was broken, and they were still alive. He leaned back and laughed, too, happy to be alive.
“Keep laughing, stranger boy,” Elden said. “We’ll see who has the last laugh.”
I’m not laughing at you, as Reece is, Thor thought. I’m just relieved to be alive.
But he didn’t bother saying it; he knew that nothing he could say would change Elden’s hatred for him.
“Look!” O’Connor screamed. “There!”
Thor squinted but could barely see what he was pointing at in the thickening night. Then he saw it: the banner of the Legion. It hung from one of the branches.
They all began to run for it.
Elden ran past all of them, brushing them aside roughly.
“That flag is mine!” he yelled.
“I saw it first!” O’Connor yelled.
“But I will get it first, and I will be the one to bring it back!” Elden yelled.
Thor fumed; he could barely believe Elden’s actions. He recalled what Kolk had said—that whoever got the banner would be rewarded, and realized why Elden sprinted. But that did not excuse him: they were supposed to be a team, a group—not every man for himself. Elden’s true colors were coming out—none of the others ran for it, tried to outdo the others. It made Thor hate Elden even more.
Elden sprinted past after elbowing O’Connor, and before the others could react, he gained several feet on them and snatched the banner.
As he did, a huge net appeared out of nowhere, rising from the ground, springing up into the air, entrapping Elden and hoisting him up high. He swung back and forth before their eyes, just feet away, like an animal caught in a trap.
“Help me! Help me!” he screamed, terrified.
They all slowed as they walked up close to him; Reece began to laugh.