by Morgan Rice
“All I ask in return is that you swear allegiance to me. That you vow to serve me, to be a ruler under my command. I will treat you justly and fairly. You will be given any position you choose at my court. Surely it is a small price to pay—your personal sacrifice for the good of your nation.
“It is a kind and generous offer. Be wise, and accept it, on behalf of the thousands of souls around you. Look around you, see their faces. They are alive. If you defy me, they will face the wrath of the great Andronicus.
“Do not think too long. If I do not have your answer in the morning, I will rain fire on you unlike any you have ever seen. And by the time of the second sunset tomorrow, the legend of Silesia will be no more. Not even in the history books, which I will destroy.”
Finally, Andronicus’ voice stopped booming. It echoed briefly on the wind, then disappeared, retreating back to wherever it come from. As she looked up, he and his men retreated from the upper landing, disappearing from view.
Gwen turned and looked at the others, who all looked back at her, wide-eyed in surprise.
“Don’t do it,” Srog said gravely.
“You cannot trust him,” Kendrick said.
“It is a false offer,” Steffen said.
“I would never have you serve him to save my soul,” Kolk said.
“Now would I,” Kendrick said.
Gwendolyn stood there, thinking. She knew Andronicus was not be trusted. Yet his words seemed genuine. And what choice did they have, really? As he said, if they refused, they would all be dead. She knew that herself. If not by his hand, then by some other way.
“I would gladly go into his servitude to spare the lives of all of you,” she said. “I feel it is an offer that I should accept.”
“You cannot my lady!” Kendrick called out. “I will not hear of it!”
“I would never have you sacrifice on my behalf!” Srog said. “I would rather go down fighting.”
“Is life that precious to you?” Brom asked.
“Not my life,” she answered. “But yours. All of yours. It would be selfish for me to reject it and have you all die.”
“Your honor is at stake!” Srog said.
“We have fought honorably,” she said. “The only one that will be in servitude is myself.”
“Your servitude is one too many,” Kendrick said. “It is not fair for you to sacrifice for all of us.”
“I am with Kendrick,” Srog said.
“So am I,” echoed the others.
“We will not let you go, my lady,” Steffen said. “We are all for one and one for all.”
A cheer arose among the men. She was touched by their loyalty. Yet the weight of Andronicus’ offer sat heavily on her shoulders. Her life for everyone else’s. It was something she would gladly give.
* * *
Gwendolyn stood alone, on the edge of Canyon Point, watching the last light of day cast a pall over the Canyon. It was the most beautiful sunset of her life, sparkling in the swirling mist, a flaming red which seemed to set the world on fire. It was somber and fatalistic. It matched her mood.
As she watched it, a part of her felt she was watching the last sunset of her life. Especially since she had, finally, come to a decision.
Gwendolyn had walked through the camp, had looked closely at the faces of all the men and women and children, the young soldiers—had seen all the aspiration, all the hope, in their eyes; they looked at her as if she held some long lost answer, as if she were their savior. It struck her that she had been given a chance, a unique ability at a unique moment in time to save these people. Her life for theirs. It would be a great honor. Maybe she had been put here, in this time and place for just this reason, for just this one moment in time, for this decision. Maybe that was why she had been meant to rule—to make this one decision that would save thousands of lives.
Gwendolyn had made up her mind. She knew what she would do. Not what her advisors would do, not what her father would do, not what Kendrick would do. But what she would do. And that’s all that mattered now.
At first dawn, when it was still dark, when there was no one around to stop her, she would go up there. Alone. She would surrender herself to Andronicus. She would agree to his terms, serve him, and give herself up for the greater good.
As Gwendolyn stood there, looking out at her last sunset as a free woman, she thought of Thor. She reached down and felt her stomach, and thought of their child. She wanted this child to live. For this child, if for no one else, she wanted to spare more bloodshed. She might be a servant to Andronicus, but this child would be free.
Gwendolyn looked out and had to admit that a part of her hoped for Thor to appear, to swoop down with the Sword and rescue her from all this. She would give anything, and her heart pounded at the thought.
But deep down she knew it was just a dream. Thor was gone, far away from here. She was all alone. It was meant for her to stand alone, as her own woman. As the woman her father had expected her to be. This was what being a ruler meant, she finally understood. To be surrounded by people—and yet, to be utterly alone.
“Not all dreams are meant to be fulfilled,” came a voice.
Gwendolyn looked over to see Argon standing there, beside her, staring out at the sunset. She felt numb to the world, and a part of her was not even surprised to see him. Little mattered to her anymore now, since her mind had been made up. She faced the sunset with him.
“You come at a time when I no longer need your counsel,” she said to him.
“I have not come to give you counsel,” he said. “But to pay my respects. I had not seen your decision coming. So brave. Your father would be proud. You are the finest of the MacGils.”
“Is that why you have come?” she asked, sensing there was something more.
“No,” he answered. “I have also come to say goodbye.”
She turned and looked at him, but he continued to stare out at the Canyon.
“Are you leaving us?” she asked, struck with fear. But then she was struck with an ever great fear: “Or is it I who is leaving you?”
Argon stared, expressionless, and would not answer.
“I suppose once I am a subject to Andronicus, you shall have a new MacGil ruler to counsel soon enough,” she said.
He shook his head.
“Times are shifting,” he said.
Gwendolyn was suddenly burning with a desire to know.
“Just tell me one thing,” she pleaded. “Thor? Is he safe? Is he alive?”
She cared not for her safety anymore, but only for his.
“He is alive, yes.”
She stared at him.
“You do not answer if he safe,” she pressed.
Argon remained silent, not responding. Her heart was breaking.
“Can you save him?” she pleaded. “From whatever peril he is in? Please. I will give you anything. Can you keep him alive?”
Argon turned and stared at her, and his eyes burned right through her.
“I have already saved Thorgrin once. For you. And now your fate demands something in return.”
Argon took three steps forward and laid a hand on her shoulder, and it burned right through her, feeling as if she was touched by the sun.
“You have done the gods proud,” he said. “Always there will be a spot of honor reserved for you.”
Just as Gwendolyn was about to pull away from his burning grasp, suddenly he disappeared.
Gwen turned and looked everywhere, but saw no trace of him. She was alone again up there, on the edge of the rock, more alone than she had ever been in her life.
She looked up at the Canyon wall rising to the upper city, and knew what she needed to do.
It was time to take the first step.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Erec braced himself as he lay there, defenseless, and the creature prepared to bring his claws down for his face. Images flashed through his mind as he prepared to meet his death—of his time as a boy, his days in the Legion, his l
ife as a knight—and none flashed through his mind so strongly as that of Alistair. He had only one regret in life as he prepared to meet his death: not having more time to spend with her.
But as the creature brought the stone down, suddenly something happened. An intense light shone through the air, and the creature went flying back, knocked off its feet as an orb of light hit him in the chest and knocked him halfway across the battlefield.
Erec blinked several times, confused, not understanding what had just happened.
Another orb of light flew across the battlefield, and then another, and the creatures went flying in every direction, clearing a safe perimeter around him.
Erec turned and looked up and saw, standing over him, Alistair.
To his shock, he saw her holding out a palm, from which were radiating the orbs of light. Her light-blue eyes were aglow and she looked other-worldly, angelic, with her long blonde hair falling down towards him.
He did not know what to think.
Erec scrambled to his feet and stood at her side as she continued casting orbs at all the creatures on the battlefield, saving his friend Brandt right before a creature sliced him in half. Within moments a wave of destruction spread across the field, all the creatures hurling through the air.
The creatures who were not yet hit looked at them with a new fear and began to back away warily, then all turned and ran.
Erec turned and looked at Alistair with a whole new appreciation and sense of wonder. Did this have to do with the secret of her birth? Who was she, really? How did she have these powers? And why had she kept it a secret?
He could barely get out the words, his throat dry, as he turned to her. He was almost afraid to ask the question:
“Who are you?”
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
As the first sun broke over the Canyon, showering it with the most magnificent sunrise Gwendolyn had ever seen, filling the universe with red and orange hues, swirling clouds of mist, Gwen climbed the spiral staircases, up flight after flight, feeling as if she were climbing her way to heaven. She trembled inwardly and her heart pounded with anxiety, her legs growing heavier with each step. She had never felt more alone since she had begun her trek and left the comfort of her family, her army, her people, everything she knew and held dear.
She prepared to face Andronicus alone, to give herself over to his service, for the sake of her people and everyone she loved. It was the loneliest walk of her life, and she forced herself to go quickly, not wanting to think about it. If she thought it over too carefully, she was afraid she might turn back.
Gwen reached the final landing before the top, and encountered several Silesian soldiers, all snapping to attention, surprised by her presence. They saluted her.
“My lady,” one of them said. “What are you doing up here? Is everything okay?”
She cleared her throat.
“All is well,” she said, trying to mask her fear, trying to sound confident.
“Where are you going, my lady?” another asked.
“To the top,” she answered.
The soldiers all exchanged a look of fear.
“The top, my lady?” one asked. “You know that Andronicus’s army awaits up there.”
She nodded.
“I know, too well. Now, please excuse me.”
The soldiers looked at themselves in hesitation and confusion, and for a moment it seemed as if they might not let her pass; but then they deferred, and finally stepped aside.
As she walked past them, Gwen turned and faced them, remembering that they were all looking to her as their ruler.
“You have all done a magnificent job,” she said. “I thank you for your service.”
“My lady,” one of the guards said, clearing his throat, looking gravely concerned. “If I may say, whatever it is that you are about to do, you needn’t do it. All of us are ready to fight to the death for you.”
She smiled back at him.
“I know you are,” she answered. “And that is precisely why I am doing this.”
Without another word, Gwen turned and made her way alone up the final flight of steps, circling and circling, until she finally reached the uppermost level. She stood there, in the field of spikes, all sticking straight up into the sky, her last protection from the hordes of Empire, and walked over to the small platform in the middle and pulled on a heavy rope.
As she pulled, slowly, one pull a time, the platform raised, lifting her higher and higher above the spikes. With each pull, she felt her heart sinking, felt the anticipation of what could be her near death.
Finally she reached the top, above the spikes, and took a step out, onto the landing of upper Silesia. Standing there were dozens of Empire soldiers, who all turned and looked at her, eyes wide in shock. They stood there, gaping, unsure what to do.
Gwen took several proud steps forward, raising her chin and chest, realizing she represented the Ring. Everything she did reflected on her people, and she was determined to be brave and strong.
She looked for the most important-looking soldier she could find, and stepped to him and stared coolly back.
“Bring me to Andronicus,” she commanded, using her most authoritative voice.
The Empire soldiers all looked at each other, dazzled, as if they’d seen a ghost appear in their midst.
Then, finally, the lead soldier nodded back. He turned and walked alongside her, and several soldiers fell in behind them.
The group of them marched, Gwen’s heart pounding, crossing through the inner courtyard of Silesia. Gwen’s heart broke at the site: it was destroyed, ravaged, burnt to embers, and now filled with thousands of Empire soldiers, milling about. As they marched through, all the soldiers on either side of her jumped to their feet, staring at Gwendolyn as if she were an animal in a zoo, as if she were a lamb being led to slaughter.
Gwen’s heart swelled with increasing anxiety. It was too late to turn back now. Now, she was entirely at their mercy.
She prayed to God that she had made the right decision, was doing the right thing. She prayed that Andronicus would indeed honor his word.
A murmur spread throughout the camp, as they all marched out the city gate, and into the huge camp beyond the walls. Gwen was awe-struck at the site: hundreds of thousands of Empire soldiers were camped as far as the eye could see. They all turned and stood and stared at Gwen’s arrival—and a great murmur arose amongst the soldiers.
Gwen was led across the remains of the drawbridge, and towards a huge black tent pitched in the center of the soldiers, which she assumed was Andronicus’ camp.
As they neared it, suddenly its flaps opened, and out of it emerged, ducking low, then raising his head high, Andronicus, wearing a black cape, no shirt, and his necklace of shrunken heads. She could see a new addition to it—the head of Lord Kultin, Gareth’s pit-bull. She tried to look away.
Gwen walked as confidently as she could up to Andronicus. He wore a huge, triumphant smile. He was more beast than man, towering twice as large as any man she’d ever met, and with his long fangs and claws, it was hard for her to believe that he walked on two legs.
“Well well, my little lamb,” he said to her, his deep voice snarling and booming in his chest. “You have taken me up on my offer after all.”
The camp grew silent, as Gwendolyn cleared her throat.
“You vowed not to harm any of my people, or myself, and to let us live in freedom,” she said, “if I would swear allegiance and enter your service. It is an offer I am prepared to accept.”
His grin widened as his eyes twinkled down at her.
“You are very brave,” he said. “You are willing to sacrifice yourself for your people. A very noble trait, indeed. You were wise to accept my offer. You can begin by kneeling before me and taking the Empire vow of allegiance.”
The idea of kneeling before this monster and vowing allegiance to him tore Gwen up inside. Every muscle in her body screamed at her not to. But she forced herself to think of her
people down below, of the suffering they would endure if she did not, and slowly, she willed her knees to bend, and took a knee before him.
“Bow your head,” came the harsh voice of Andronicus’ attendant.
Slowly, Gwendolyn lowered her head.
“Repeat after me,” the attendant said. “I Gwendolyn, daughter of King MacGil, ruler of the Western Kingdom of the Ring….”
“I Gwendolyn, daughter of King MacGil, ruler of the Western Kingdom of the Ring….”
“Do hereby acknowledge that the great Andronicus is the one and only ruler of the universe….”
“Do hereby acknowledge that the great Andronicus is the one and only ruler of the universe….”
“That there has never been any greater, and never will be….”
“That there has never been any greater, and never will be….”
“And that I shall forever swear my loyalty to him.”
As she spoke these last words they nearly stuck in her throat, and she felt a sense of nausea spread through her. She paused, wondering if she could go through with it.
“And that I shall forever swear my loyalty to him.”
She did it. She managed to get them out. Finally, it was done. She raised her head, looking up at Andronicus.
A great rumble arose from inside Andronicus’ throat, like a purring sound. It was the sound of satisfaction.
“Very good,” he said. “Very good indeed. You will make a most obedient subject. Now, you can rise.”
Gwendolyn stood, and stared back at him coldly.
“And now you can let my people go,” she said.
Andronicus’s smile widened, as he reached up and fingered his necklace of shrunken heads.
“Well yes, about that,” he began. “You see, sometimes I enjoy being honest. And sometimes I take great pleasure out of a lie. In this case, I’m sorry to say, it is the latter. I promise many things. Some things I keep, and some things I do not. And I am afraid you caught me on the wrong day.”
Gwendolyn’s heart began to pound. Inside, she screamed at herself. How could she have been so stupid?