A Cry of Honor by Morgan Rice


  Kolk, then Brom, embraced Thor, then the others, and Thor could see the relief in their faces.

  “You have returned,” Kolk said. “We heard, too late, of Gwen’s capture, of your expedition. You should have come to us first. We would have joined you.”

  “There hadn’t been time,” Thor said.

  “Gwendolyn!” came a voice.

  Godfrey rushed over and embraced her, relief on his face.

  “You’re alive,” he said, shocked.

  All the soldiers looked at Thor and the surviving Legion members with a new respect, with a look of awe. Thor felt proud. Surrounded by these men, he felt as if he could finally take a deep breath and let down his guard.

  “Not all of us made it back,” Thor said, his voice growing deeper, more authoritative. “Three of our Legion members died, I’m sorry to say. There were nine of us.”

  “Against a hundred Nevaruns,” Reece added.

  “And where are these hundred warriors now?” Brom asked, stepping forward, putting a hand on his sword’s hilt. “Are they pursuing you?”

  Thor shook his head gravely.

  “They are all dead, my lord,” he said gravely.

  Brom’s eyes opened wide with a new look of respect, looking them all up and down.

  “Are you saying that the six of you killed a hundred of the Ring’s fiercest warriors?” Brom asked.

  “There had been nine of us, my lord,” Thor corrected. “Three have died. But yes.”

  Kolk stepped forward and laid an approving hand on Thor’s shoulder.

  “You have done the Legion proud,” he said.

  Thor cleared his throat.

  “I feared you would be upset,” Thor said. “We have rescued the King’s daughter, but we have broken the King’s Law to do so, as she was given legally. We may have also sparked a war with Gareth. I’m sure he will not let this lie.”

  “Then let him try!” Brom yelled. “We fear no one. And no, we are not upset. We are proud of your actions. Anyone coming here to take away the King’s daughter against her will deserves death.”

  “AYE!” screamed the room.

  “Even if it was a lawful edict of the King?” Reece asked.

  “What King?” Kolk called out.

  “AYE!” echoed the room.

  “And I have proof of Gareth’s treachery!” Godfrey called out excitedly.

  The room turned to him, riveted.

  “There is a boy who is willing to be witness to the crime. He has agreed to testify against Gareth, for his attempted assassination of me.”

  The room gasped, breaking out into an excited murmur.

  “The boy is being kept safely in the castle. I was awaiting the return of the warriors—and now that you are all here, and we are ready, we can all go to the Council together, and bring the boy and present the evidence. With a witness, the Council will have no choice but to legally depose Gareth.”

  “And if they do not?” Kolk asked.

  “If the council will not take action,” Brom said, “then it is clear that we, The Silver, The Legion, the King’s men, no longer have a place here at King’s Court. If so then we shall all leave this place and set up a new court elsewhere!”

  “AYE!” echoed the room.

  “My lady,” Brom said, turning to Gwen, “we are prepared to fight to the death for you, just as we had for your father, to instill you as ruler. When the Council sees our proof, we will lawfully depose Gareth. And then we shall instate you as Queen. I ask you again: is this an honor which you will accept?”

  Gwen looked to the floor, then looked up.

  “It is time to end my brother Gareth’s rule,” she said. “And if my being queen is what it takes, then so be it.”

  The room erupted into a cheer.

  “And if we are forced to leave this place,” Kolk said, “then Gwendolyn, you shall be our ruler, in absentia. We will set up our own King’s Court elsewhere.”

  “AYE!” echoed the room.

  “We can venture to Silesia!” boomed a voice. They all turned to see Srog standing there, in the distinctive red armor of the West. “You can all come to my city. It is fortified with a thousand men, and we can set up a new King’s Court there! Gwen can rule there, until Gareth falls and we return!”

  “AYE!” echoed the room.

  “Let us hope that this boy is a faithful witness,” Kolk said, turning to Godfrey, “and that we need not go anywhere. Godfrey, are you sure he is true?”

  Godfrey nodded back.

  “He awaits us even now. Time is precious. Let us go and end Gareth’s reign once and for all!”

  “AYE!” screamed the room of men.

  As one they all turned, headed out the hall, and marched for Gareth’s castle. Thor felt the excitement and anticipation in the air like a palpable thing, and he knew that in just moments things would never be the same at King’s Court again.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  Thor marched with the large group of soldiers, Gwendolyn at his side, Godfrey leading the way with the young boy in tow, as the huge group of men wound their way through King’s Castle, down corridor after corridor, their footsteps echoing as they marched towards the Council room. Thor could feel the momentousness of the day, the great anticipation that hung in the air as they neared the Council room. Finally, they had what they needed: Godfrey had a witness, the Council was in session, and with a witness, lawfully, the Council had to depose Gareth. Once they did, his reign would be over once and for all, Gwendolyn could be installed as ruler, and life could go back to how it had been at King’s Court.

  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 hi
red 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-to-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?”

 
Previous Page Next Page
Should you have any enquiry, please contact us via [email protected]