A Cry of Honor by Morgan Rice


  “Something’s wrong,” Thor observed.

  “Yes, it is,” she said. “Let’s hurry.”

  The two of them broke off at a trot, Krohn running beside them, across the plains, through the arched stone gate, and into King’s Court. They strutted across the dusty plaza and entered the crowd of men, merging with them as they poured into the Hall of Arms.

  As they entered, Thor was surprised to find the hall packed with soldiers. He spotted all his friends in the Legion, and dozens of the Silver. He spotted Kendrick, Kolk, Brom, Atme, and dozens of famed warriors. The mood inside was agitated. Many warriors sat at the table, heads in their hands, as if nursing a hangover, while others paced the room, arguing with each other. There was a tense energy in the air, a murmur, as if they had all been in the midst of a heated debate.

  “But it is not just!” yelled one soldier to the other. “Never in the history of the MacGils has there been anything like this!”

  Thor walked with Gwen and cut a path through the center of the room to Reece and Godfrey and Kendrick, who sat huddled together, with several Silver members clustered around them. They turned and looked up at their sister, making room.

  “What has happened here?” she asked Kendrick.

  Thor had a sinking feeling that whatever it was, it was not good. He could not believe how the mood had changed since he had left this hall just hours ago.

  “It is our dear brother, Gareth” Kendrick said, morose. “He has displaced the Silver from the Silver Hall.”

  “What!” Thor yelled out, unbelieving.

  “It’s true,” Kendrick said. “The Silver have lived in that hall for a thousand years, for every MacGil king. Now they are being relegated to the minor army barracks.”

  “It is an insult that will not be tolerated!” a soldier added.

  “But why?” Thor asked. “Why would Gareth do this? How could he get away with it?”

  “He won’t get away with it,” Brom responded sternly, slamming a fist on the table.

  “It seems he has brought in another band of warriors,” Kendrick said. “Lord Kultin, from the Essen province. He has hired them as a private king’s guard, his own personal fighting force. He is showering them with the best of everything, including the Silver’s Hall. It is a slap in the face. To all of us.”

  “But can he do such a thing?” Thor asked.

  “He is King,” Reece responded. “He can do whatever he wishes.”

  Thor shook his head, shocked, as the others fell into a disturbed silence, muttering all around them. He could hardly believe that Gareth would have the audacity to do such a thing. He wondered what it meant for them all. Would there be a civil war? Clearly, a line had been crossed.

  “Well, at least the Silver will finally see what we have known for a long time now,” Gwendolyn spoke up. “That our brother is not to be trusted. That he strives to cause division amongst our kingdom. That he caused Kendrick to be jailed unfairly. And that he was responsible for the death of our father.”

  The hall grew quiet at Gwendolyn’s final words, as all the warriors turned and looked at her.

  “The death of your father?” one of the soldiers asked.

  “Those are serious charges, my lady,” Brom said. “Have you any proof?”

  “We had proof, Godfrey and I,” she responded. “We had a witness to the crime. The man who wielded the blade, and Gareth’s advisor, Firth. But now he hangs from the gallows. Gareth made sure of that.”

  “Then you have no proof,” Kolk said.

  “Not anymore. Gareth has managed to do away with whatever proof we could find. But he would not have tried to poison Godfrey, and he would not have tried to kill me, if he didn’t know we were close to revealing him.”

  “Still, it remains circumstantial,” Brom said. “The Council is very strict. We cannot oust a King without proof of wrongdoing—we would be considered traitors to the Ring. Unfortunately, our law leaves no room for compromise. Proof is required, however unjustly a King may act.”

  “But there is more than the fact that he assassinated our father,” Kendrick chimed in. “He is also endangering us, our men, the Ring, leaving us open to attack. That is why the McClouds’ breached the Highlands: they sensed our vulnerability. One can argue that we have a right, a responsibility, to revolt, and to institute a new rulership, on behalf of the best interests of the Ring.”

  “That may be true,” Kolk argued, “but still we cannot take any action while he is lawful King. We need proof of his assassination attempt. Then we can oust him.”

  “I think I can find proof,” Godfrey said.

  The room turned and looked at him.

  “If I can prove who poisoned me, the other night in the tavern,” he continued, “then that may lead back to Gareth. Surely, an assassination attempt on his own brother, a member of the royal family, would be grounds to oust him as king.”

  “Yes it is,” Brom replied. “But we would need proof. And a witness.”

  “I can find it,” Godfrey said. “I’m sure I can.”

  “Then find it, and be quick about it. And in the meantime, we will do what we can to help rebuild and refortify from our fragile state,” Kendrick added. “We are weakened since the McCloud attack. I will lead a group to our eastern defenses and help fortify them, in case of another attack. They have been badly damaged in the raid and we will need a contingent of men to fortify our cities and to prevent another McCloud raid.”

  “I will help by dispatching the Legion,” Kolk chimed in. “They can help rebuild the other villages destroyed by the McClouds.”

  “In the meantime, we will find proof, and find a legal way to oust Gareth,” Gwen said.

  “You better be quick about it,” Brom said. “Because my men will not suffer Kultin and his savages in Silver Hall for long. I fear that if we don’t find a way to legally oust Gareth soon, then we will have a civil war on our hands.”

  The room muttered in approval.

  “Speaking of traitors,” Kendrick added, “we must first oust the traitors within our own ranks.”

  Kendrick turned towards the door and nodded to Atme, who suddenly slammed closed the huge door of the Hall of Arms. It reverberated with a hollow thud and he barred it, not allowing any soldiers to leave. The room grew silent with a thick tension.

  “Forg!” Kendrick called out. “Come forward! The time has come for you to account for your actions on the battlefield yesterday.”

  A shout rose up, as several members of the Silver grabbed Forg and dragged him forward, cutting a path through the crowd, to the center. He was held in place by four knights, as he struggled to break free.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Forg yelled, indignant. “I’m a loyal member of the King’s Army. I did nothing wrong!”

  “Didn’t you?” Kendrick asked. “Thor and several of his Legion friends were led into an ambush by the McClouds. You set them up to be killed.”

  Kendrick stepped forward, pulled a dagger from his belt and held it to Forg’s throat, as the room grew silent.

  “I’m only going to ask you this once. Answer truthfully, and it might just save your life. Was it Gareth who commanded you to do so?”

  A thick silence fell over the room, as Forg swallowed hard, sweating.

  Finally, he nodded, and lowered his head.

  “He did,” he admitted.

  An outraged gasp erupted through the hall.

  “He admits his treachery!” several knights called out.

  “Forgive me my Lord,” Forg pleaded, desperation in his eyes. “It was a command from the King. And I was too weak not to heed it.”

  “Yet it was a command to kill one of our own,” Kolk said, stepping forward. “To set up noble Legion members for death at the enemy’s hands. It was a command for treachery and betrayal. And you executed it. You know what the punishment is for betrayal of a Legion member.”

  Forg swallowed hard.

  “Please, my lords, have mercy!”

  “
Thor,” Kendrick said, turning to him. “It falls on you to pronounce a death sentence on Forg. It is you whom he betrayed.”

  The entire hall grew silent, as everyone turned to Thor.

  Thor’s heart pounded as he watched the man before him, waiting to be killed. A great fury washed over him, as he considered how this man had endangered his Legion brothers.

  Yet at the same time, to Thor’s surprise, he felt compassion for him, too. After all, it seemed that Forg had once been a good knight; he had simply been unable to stand up to tyranny, to do the right thing when the time came, in the heat of the moment. Thor hated the idea of his being executed—and especially at his own expense.

  Thor stepped forward and cleared his throat.

  “It is true,” Thor called out, “Forg is deserving of death for what he did. But I would ask you all to have mercy on him.”

  A surprised gasp spread through the room.

  “Mercy?” Kolk asked. “Why?”

  “He may be deserving of death,” Thor said. “But that does not mean we should give it to him. He made a mistake. Gareth is the evil one behind all of this. I would rather not have this knight’s blood shed on my behalf. He made a mistake. And we survived, after all. Most of us, anyway.”

  “Thorgrinson,” Kendrick said, “our law prohibits us from allowing a traitor to stay within our ranks. Something must be done with him.”

  “Then banish him,” Thor said. “Send him away from your hall. Let him join Gareth’s men, or let him leave the Ring. But don’t kill him.”

  Kendrick looked long and hard at Thor, and finally he nodded.

  “I can see that you hold much wisdom, despite your young age.”

  Kendrick turned to Forg, grabbed him by the chest, and scowled into his eyes.

  “You are very lucky on this day,” Kendrick said. “If I see your face before me again, I will kill you myself.”

  Kendrick reached over, tore the army’s pin from Forg’s vest, spun him around and kicked him hard, sending him stumbling through the hall. Forg hurried through the room and Atme opened the door, let him out, and slammed the door behind him.

  Slowly, the room burst back into life, and as it did, Brom stepped forward.

  “We still have not addressed the most important issue here today,” he boomed.

  The room fell silent as all turned to him.

  “The gods be willing, one day, sooner or later, Gareth will be ousted. When that day comes, we will be left with no ruler of the Ring. Which MacGil shall succeed him? Kendrick, you are firstborn, legitimate or not. The men look up to you. Is it a role you will accept?”

  Kendrick shook his head adamantly.

  “My father’s dying wish was that Gwendolyn should rule. We all witnessed it.”

  A gasp spread throughout the room.

  “A woman?” one of the knights called out.

  “It is true!” Reece said.

  “It is!” Godfrey called out, too. “We were all at that meeting. It was our father’s wish. He skipped over all of us and chose her. As her siblings, we accept it. In fact, we all approve of the choice.”

  “If you all honor MacGil,” Kendrick said, “then you will honor his final wish. You will institute and defend Gwen as ruler of this kingdom.”

  All the soldiers in the room turned and looked at Gwen, and a heavy silence filled the room.

  Thor looked over at her, and saw her lower her head in humility.

  “If it was good enough for MacGil, then it’s good enough for me,” Brom boomed, breaking the stunned silence.

  “And I!” Kolk added.

  “And I!” echoed all the soldiers in the room.

  “But Gwendolyn, would you accept?” Kendrick asked her.

  An expectant silence followed, as she lowered her head. Several moments of silence followed.

  “I know that you would be a fair and wise ruler,” Kendrick added. “Much better than Gareth.”

  “You are what our father wanted,” Godfrey added, “and you are what the Ring needs.”

  Finally, Gwen cleared her throat.

  “It is not something I wish for, or something that I seek, my Lords,” she said. “It is true, when father pressed me, I did agree to him that I would accept it. But I did so grudgingly. I would much rather that one of you rule in my stead.”

  Kendrick shook his head.

  “We do not always get what we wish,” he said. “Sometimes you must do what is best for the kingdom. And with every ounce of who I am, I know that it is you who should rule.”

  “Aye!” called out several soldiers, in agreement.

  The room was thick with silence, as they awaited Gwen’s response.

  “Gwen, say yes,” Godfrey urged, as she wavered. “The people need someone to rally around. The nobles, the Lords, everyone in all the provinces—they need to know that someone is in place, someone they can get behind, when Gareth should fall. For the kingdom’s sake, say yes.”

  Gwen looked down to the ground, feeling her father’s spirit with her strongly, then finally looked back up.

  “I will agree,” she said, finally.

  The room erupted into a cheer, and Thor could hear how happy and relieved everyone was to have an alternate to Gareth. He felt elated himself, and beyond proud of her.

  Before the cheer had even died down, before he’d had a chance to congratulate her, suddenly, the door to the hall burst open again, and in rushed a messenger, frantic.

  “My Lord!” he said bowing in Kendrick’s direction. “Outside this hall waits a contingent of men—a hundred men strong, fierce warriors all of them. Nevaruns! They say they have come to take their bride away!”

  “Bride?” Kendrick called out.

  “They say they have come to claim Gwendolyn!” the messenger said.

  The hall burst out in an outraged gasp.

  “Gwendolyn, is this true?” Kendrick asked her.

  She frowned.

  “It is but another devious plot set into place by our brother. He did not succeed in assassinating me, so now he thinks he can marry me off, to get me out of his hair. He has no right. He is not my father.”

  Thor suddenly drew his sword, and began marching out the hall.

  “Whether he has a legal right or not, I don’t care,” Thor said. “There is only one right that I will heed, and that is the right of swords. If these men want to take Gwendolyn away, they will have to go through me!”

  “And me!” Reece yelled, drawing his sword.

  There came the sound of hundreds of swords being drawn in the hall, as all the soldiers got behind Thor.

  Thor led the way, across the hall, out the open door, hundreds of soldiers following as they went outside to greet the contingent.

  Before them, waiting, were a hundred of the fiercest warriors Thor had ever laid eyes upon, mounted on horseback, their leader on the ground, standing before his horse. He was twice as tall and as broad as any man Thor had ever seen. He had bright red skin, and scowled, with two long fangs protruding from his mouth, like tusks, and several rows of sharp, rotted teeth. The skin on his face was red, his eyes were hardly bigger than slits, a dark yellow, and his bald head was shaped in a point. He and his men all wore yellow and green armor.

  “I have come to claim my bride,” he growled down at Thor. It sounded like the snarl of an animal.

  Krohn, standing beside Thor, snarled, the hair on his back standing, ready to pounce at the man.

  “You are mistaken,” Thor answered back, bravely, trying to use his most confident voice. “There is no bride for you here. Gwendolyn does not wish to leave, and she will not leave this kingdom without the spilled blood of all our men.”

  The man scowled down at Thor, his fist tightening on the hilt of his sword, his face turning even redder.

  “I was promised a bride by your King!” the man snarled, gripping and releasing the hilt of his sword, as his soldiers pranced anxiously behind him.

  “He has promised you something you cannot have,” Thor
answered. “Your fight is with our King, not with us. And not with Gwendolyn.”

  “My fight is with no one!” he yelled. “Because that bride is mine. And I am taking her! Now out of my way, little one!”

  The Nevarun took several steps towards Thor, raised his sword high, as he did, Thor felt a burst of rage flash through him, unlike any he had ever felt. As the man came close, Thor raised his left palm and thrust it towards him, and Thor watched as a yellow ball of energy went flying from his palm, struck the man in the chest, and sent him flying back, dozens of feet, landing hard on the ground.

  The crowd froze, watching.

  Slowly, the Nevarun shook his head and got back to his feet. He turned and looked down at Thor with surprise. And with hatred. But this time, he did not dare come near.

  “You are a demon!” the Nevarun said.

  “Call me what you will,” Thor said, no longer embarrassed of who or what he was. He was beginning to feel more at home with himself. “You will not touch Gwendolyn.”

  The Nevarun stood there, unsure, grabbing and releasing his sword, as he snarled with each breath.

  After what felt like an eternity, finally, he turned to his men, muttered something in a language that Thor did not understand, then jumped up and remounted his horse.

  “You have insulted the honor of the Nevaruns. We do not forgive. One day, you will pay—you will all pay—by blood. And when we take your bride, which we will, we will return her as a corpse!”

  The Nevarun spat, then he and his contingent turned and rode off, speeding back down the main road out of King’s Court.

  Thor slowly lowered his sword, shaking inside but not wanting to show it. Reece came up and patted him on the shoulder, as did several others.

  Gwen came up beside him. She laid a hand on his cheek, leaned in and kissed him. And with that kiss, all felt right again in the world. He would never let her go. Never.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 
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