by Morgan Rice
But then again, knowing Gareth, Thor also felt a sense of dread, a pit in his stomach, knowing he seemed to have a way out of almost everything, how he was always one step ahead of everybody. Thor looked around, at all the formidable warriors around him, and wondered what would be if somehow Gareth found a way out of this. Would there be a full-fledged civil war? Would they all leave King’s Court, never to return again?
Thor tried not to think of these things as they turned down the final corridor and marched, dozens of them, all armed, for the huge doors of the council hall. The royal guards outside the door stiffened, eyes opening wide in fear at the site of the small army.
“Open these doors at once!” Brom commanded.
The guards glanced at each other, hesitating for just a moment, then must have realized they had no choice. They reached over, yanked open the huge doors, and stepped aside.
Thor marched with the others into the huge council hall, their boot steps echoing off the vaulted ceilings. They all filled the room. Heads turned, and the council stopped.
Before them were dozens of council members, seated at the wide, semicircular table, all facing Gareth, who sat up on his platform, on his throne, clutching its arms and looking down on the whole room. There was a frenzied look in his eyes, and he seemed more desperate than ever.
Behind Gareth stood dozens of armed soldiers, Kultin’s men, his private fighting force, all with hands on their swords, as if waiting for any calamity that might happen. Brutes, all of them.
The councilmembers stood and turned as the group entered, fear on their faces.
“What is the meaning of this?” Aberthol asked, standing, looking over the faces. “Gwendolyn,” he added, “you of all people know it is against the law to interrupt a Council meeting.”
“Forgive me,” she replied. “But we bring news worthy of interrupting these proceedings. In fact, we bring news that will change the fate of the Ring forever.”
Gwendolyn stared coldly up at her brother, and he looked down at her with a cool hatred. He seemed startled to see her alive; he had probably assumed she would be far from here by now, in the hands of the Nevaruns. Gareth’s face had sunk deep into his cheekbones these last days, and he seemed more insane than ever.
Godfrey stepped forward.
“I have with me here a young boy,” Godfrey called out, “who will stand as witness to my brother Gareth’s treachery. Gareth hired a man to assassinate me-I, a member of the royal family!”
The room broke out into an outraged murmur.
“This boy here was witness. He will proclaim once and for all what Gareth has done, and you, the Council, will have to take lawful action, and depose our King!”
The murmur in the room continued, as numerous councilmen and lords looked at each other. Gareth just continued to stare down coldly at it all, expressionless.
Aberthol turned and looked towards Gareth.
“Are these charges true, my Lord?” he asked slowly.
Gareth smiled down at the room.
“Of course they are not,” he said. “Godfrey is a scheming son who has always wanted his father’s throne. He would make up any charges against me he could to depose me.”
“I do not seek the throne,” Godfrey countered. “I have no wish to rule. Gwendolyn will be the next ruler.”
Gareth snorted down.
“No she will not,” he said “I am ruler. By law. And no words from a boy will change anything.”
“My Lord,” Aberthol interjected, “if this boy is a true witness to an assassination attempt, the law mandates us to hear his testimony and to rule as a Council.”
A thick silence hung in the air, as Gareth scowled back, then finally, shrugged.
“If you want to hear the boy, then hear him,” he said nonchalantly. “Send him forward.”
The boy looked up at Godfrey, and Godfrey nodded back down to him, then gently nudged him. The boy tentatively stepped forward, towards the center of the room, into a shaft of light that shone down from the ceiling. He seemed scared, as he looked up, looking from Aberthol to Gareth.
“Tell us truly boy,” Aberthol said. “What did you witness?”
The boy stood there, hesitating to speak. Then finally, after several long seconds, he called out.
“I saw nothing!”
The room erupted into a shocked gasp.
“What do you mean, boy?” Godfrey yelled down, shocked, outraged. “Tell them what you told me! Tell them what you saw! Do not be afraid. Be honest now!”
The boy looked again at Gareth, who seemed to nod back to him.
“I saw nothing!” the boy yelled out again. “I have nothing to say!”
Godfrey examined the boy with a confused expression, while Gareth smiled, satisfied.
“As you were saying, my beloved brother?” Gareth asked.
Godfrey frowned back at Gareth
“You’ve gotten to the boy somehow!” Godfrey yelled.
Gareth leaned back and laughed.
“You have a useless witness,” Gareth said. “Your pathetic plan to oust me failed. I still sit as true and rightful and lawful King. And there is not a thing you can do about it.”
“Aberthol, you must do something!” Godfrey pleaded. “It is obvious he has gotten to the witness. This boy saw what he saw. My brother tried to kill me!”
Aberthol shook his head sadly.
“I’m afraid that without evidence, the law is the law. Whatever may have happened, Gareth must remain as King without proof to the contrary.”
“You are a liar!” Godfrey screamed out across the hall to Gareth, red-faced, drawing his sword as he bore down on him.
The sound of the sword being drawn echoed throughout the chamber, and as soon as it did, suddenly there came the sound of dozens of swords being drawn, as all of the fierce warriors behind Gareth jumped into action.
The Silver and Legion responded, drawing their swords, too.
There came a tense standoff in the room, rows of soldiers on both sides standing with swords drawn, facing each other. The room was thick with tension.
“The law is on my side,” Gareth said slowly, deliberately. “I can have all of you imprisoned here today, every single one of you.”
“You can only imprison us by the law of King’s Court,” Gwendolyn called out, stepping forward. “But as of today, we are no longer members of King’s Court. None of us. I and this force will leave this place for good. You can sit there and rule unlawfully in our father’s throne, and we will rule in own court, in absentia. And if you try to send men to take me away again, we will consider it an act of war, and I assure you, we will fight back. You have lords loyal to you. We have lords loyal to us, too. As of this day, we no longer serve you. If the Council will not depose you by rightful law, then we shall leave this place and form our own council.”
“You can leave King’s court if you wish,” Gareth said, “but you shall now be known as heretics and traitors. You are breaking the King’s law. If I ever encounter you in the field, I will kill you all. And if you ever come to King’s Court again, you will all be killed.”
Gwendolyn shook her head.
“You are a pathetic human being,” she said. “I curse the day you became my brother. Father looks down at you in disgrace.”
Gareth threw his head back and screamed with laughter.
“Father looks down at no one. He is dead, my dear. Don’t you remember? Someone killed him.”
Gareth screamed and screamed with laughter.
They had all had enough. They turned as one and stormed out the hall, the dozens of them marching away, down the corridor, out of this place. As they prepared to walk out the doors and never see King’s Court again, they were accompanied all the way by the sound of Gareth’s laugher, echoing off the ancient walls.
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
Erec rode on the forest path, heading north, finally, after all these months, heading back to his home, back to King’s Court, this time, with his new bride-t
o-be, Alistair. She rode on Warkfin behind him, clutching onto him, as she had been for hours as they entered the thick wood. Erec had not stopped galloping since he’d rescued her from that lord’s castle, wanting to gain as much distance from the place as possible.
Erec recognized this wood: he was now on the outskirts of Savaria, hardly a day’s ride away, and as he rode between the thick trees, he turned and checked back over his shoulder one more time, wanting to make sure they were not being followed. They were not. The horizon sat empty, as it had every time he’d checked that day, and for the first time, as they entered the tree cover, he felt they could relax.
He slowed the horse. Poor Alistair had been gripping his chest for so many hours, he was sure that she could use some rest. And so could he. He was beyond exhausted from the intense battle, and from the non-stop riding. He hadn’t slept in days, and this seemed like a good place to rest.
Erec found a secluded spot, well-sheltered, beside a lake, protected by tall, swaying trees, and he stopped before it and dismounted and held out a hand to help Alistair down. The feel of her hand, of her soft skin, electrified him as he helped her down off the horse; she looked exhausted, but as beautiful and noble as ever. He was thrilled to be by her side after all those days of fighting for her, after all the days of being apart-and after almost losing her. It had been too close of a call. He was ecstatic that he had saved her from an awful fate, and determined that the two of them should never be apart again.
As the two of them stood there, she turned and looked up at him, the waters of the lake reflected in her soulful eyes. She looked back at him with such love and devotion, he felt his heart melt. He knew deep in his bones that he had made the right choice. There was no finer woman he could hope to be with.
“My Lord,” she said, looking down to the ground softly, “I don’t know how to thank you. You saved my life.”
He reached down, placed a finger under her chin, leaned in, and kissed her. They kissed for a long time, and her lips were the smoothest thing he’d ever felt. She leaned in, kissing him firmly, running a hand along his cheek, as he ran a hand along hers. He reached up and brushed back her hair gently, outlining the curve of her beautiful face. He had never seen anyone so beautiful, from any corner of the kingdom, and he could hardly believe his luck to be with her.
“You have nothing to thank me for,” he replied. “It is you who has saved me. You saved me from an empty life, from searching for my love.”
She took his hand and led him to the mossy ground beside the lake. They sat down beside the crystal clear waters, and as the second sun began to set, she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, and he reached over and draped a hand around her shoulder, holding her tight.
“I waited for you every day with bated breath,” she said, “as you competed in your tournaments. When they sold me into slavery, I fought with everything I had. But they were too powerful for me. I cried and cried for days, thinking only of you.”
The thought tore Erec up inside.
“I’m sorry, my lady,” he said. “I should have known the innkeeper would deal with you in that way. I should have been there sooner to protect you.”
She smiled up at him.
“You protect me now,” she said. “That is all that matters.”
“I shall protect you with everything I have, for the rest of my days,” he said.
She leaned in and they kissed again, holding it for a long time.
She pulled back, and he looked into her eyes, and was entranced.
“My lady,” he said, “I can see in your eyes that you are of special birth. Can’t you tell me your secret?”
She turned and looked away, a sadness overcoming her face.
“I don’t want to withhold anything from you, my Lord,” she said. “But I made a vow, never to reveal were I am from.”
“But why such a vow?” he asked. “Could the place be so terrible?”
“The place was beautiful, my Lord,” she said. “More beautiful than anything I have ever seen. That is not why I left.”
“Then tell me,” he said, intrigued. “Tell me at least one thing about your past. Am I correct? Do you hail from royalty?”
She looked to the lake, sighed, waited a long time, then looked back at him.
“If I tell you one thing,” she said, “will you vow not to ask again?”
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.