Authors: Morgan Rice
Thor was beginning to feel optimistic when suddenly he felt a great blow on his back, like that of a hammer, smashing into his armor, and knocking him down to the ground.
He hit the ground hard and rolled to his feet to see their leader, facing him, wielding a two-handed war hammer in just one hand. In his other he held a long chain, dangling from his palm, which he swung overhead. He wore a malicious smile. Behind him, Thor could see Gwen, tied to his horse, forced to watch, helpless, eyes opened wide in panic and desperation.
“You thought you could steal my girl from me,” the man growled down to Thor. He swung the chain around his head, and Thor raised a palm to use his energy to stop it.
But for some reason, his magic would not work against this man. As Thor jumped to his feet, the chain continued to swing through the air, wrapping around Thor’s ankles again and again; the warrior yanked it, and Thor fell flat his back, his feet tied together, helpless on the ground. Thor did not know what power this man wielded, but it was intense, unlike any warrior he had ever fought.
While Thor lay there, helpless on his back, the warrior stepped forward, raised his hammer high, and brought it down right for Thor’s face.
Thor rolled out of the way at the last second, and the hammer sank deep into the earth.
Thor sat up, feet still bound, and reached over to draw the sword on his belt.
But the warrior backhanded him before he could draw, knocking him back down to the ground.
Thor lay there, his head ringing, defenseless on the ground as the man stood over him, extracting his hammer from the earth, and raising it high again. He was prepared to bring it down right on Thor’s face. Thor lay there helpless, and there was nothing he could do.
“Say good night, young one,” the warrior said, smiling wide.
Suddenly the hammer froze in mid-air, as the man’s eyes open widened.
Thor at first was confused; then he saw an arrow pierce the man’s throat, protruding out the front.
The warrior stood in place, frozen, holding the hammer high as blood gurgled from his mouth, dripping down his chest.
Then he dropped the hammer, landing on his own head, and collapsed onto the earth, right beside Thor, dead.
Thor looked up to see Gwendolyn. She sat there on the horse, holding a bow and arrow, having just shot the man. She had somehow managed to sever the cords that bound her wrists, and her hands trembled as she looked down at Thor.
Thor loved her more in that moment than he could ever say. He sat up, unwrapped the chains at his feet, and ran over to Gwen, jumping up, mounting the horse, feeling her arms wrap around him, her head lean into his back, and feeling overwhelmed with relief. She was safe. And they were together again.
Thor surveyed the battlefield and saw three Nevaruns left. One was being finished off by Elden, the other by O’Connor, and the final one fought hand-to-hand with Reece. As he watched, Reece suddenly slipped and the warrior prepared to bring his sword down.
Thor galloped over to him, and before the soldier could chop off Reece’s his head, Thor pulled a short spear from the horse’s saddle and hurled it. It pierced the man’s back, came out the other side, and he collapsed to his knees, dead.
Thor sat there on the horse, with Gwen, and looked around. It was a field of carnage, filled with the corpses of thirty Nevaruns, demarcated by the chasm of the open earth. Pools of blood were everywhere. Three were only five Legion members left alive, in addition to Thor: Reece, O’Connor, Elden and the twins. They were all wounded, exhausted, breathing hard. But they were all victorious.
Thor raised a single sword high in the air, and the thrill of victory rushed through his veins.
“LEGION FOREVER!” he yelled out.
The others turned and raised their swords in response.
“LEGION FOREVER!”
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
Andronicus rode his horse in a rage, leading his vast army along the edge of the Canyon, heading north, marching for the Eastern Crossing of the Ring. As he marched, more and more Empire troops filled in behind him, arriving in droves from his fleets of boats landing on the shores. Andronicus had been deeply embarrassed by that McCloud prisoner who had duped him, who had led him to believe that he knew the way to breach the Canyon. It had been years since Andronicus had been duped by anyone, and he realized that his overzealousness to cross had allowed him to be weak, to be fooled. His body still shook with rage at the slight, even though he had already killed the man. He wished he could find a way to track down the man’s family, and kill them, too.
As Andronicus rode, he was more determined than ever to breach the Canyon somehow, to wreak havoc on the Ring, to make all these humans suffer. Yet without being able to cross, there was little he could do. He knew that it was a futile mission at this point, that all of this mobilization had been for nothing. Yet still, he hated the idea of just turning back and leaving this place, of going back home in disgrace. Especially now that all of his men were here, and more and more were arriving with each moment.
He figured he could at least work his way up to the main McCloud crossing, the bridge guarded by all those McCloud soldiers, and see if perhaps he could goad any of them to walk out from the safety of the Canyon, if any of them were that stupid. Maybe he could torture one or two of them. Maybe even kill some more. That might at least appease his mood.
Andronicus could also use the opportunity to test the Canyon again, just in case there was a breach somewhere. He could throw some of his own soldiers over the edge, and see if they died. Who knows? Maybe, just maybe, he could find a chink in the armor somewhere.
Andronicus rode slowly, the sound of thousands of boots marching behind him in unison, as he proceeded along the edge of the Canyon. Finally, they turned a bend, and he saw his objective before him: there was the Eastern Crossing of the Canyon, hundreds of McCloud soldiers lined up alongside the bridge, all the way into the McCloud side. What Andronicus would give to be on that side of the Ring. He could taste it from here.
Andronicus saw the McCloud troops tense up as his army approached the main entry to the bridge. He led the way, all the way up to the very edge of the Canyon, standing but feet away.
A tense silence hung over the two armies. The McCloud soldiers, wisely, stayed on the bridge, on their side of the energy force, not daring to leave the protection of the Canyon.
Andronicus nodded towards one of his commanders, and the commander shoved forward several soldiers, who charged for the McCloud men, swords drawn. The ten unlucky soldiers charged right for the bridge—but the second they crossed the line, onto the bridge, entering the mystical air of the Canyon, all ten of them were eviscerated, burned alive, and fell, nothing but ashes, down at the feet of the McCloud soldiers.
Andronicus frowned. Nothing had changed. There was still no way in.
“Come out here, to this side of the Canyon, and face us in battle like real men!” Andronicus boomed, his voice echoing throughout the Canyon, as the hundreds of McCloud men stood at attention on the bridge, all in perfect discipline, none of them daring to move. They were too smart for that.
The two armies stood in a silent standoff. Andronicus was feeling desperate.
“Let me across this bridge,” Andronicus boomed out, trying another tactic, “and I will give you all riches beyond what you could ever dream. You will become Empire soldiers. You will have ten times the gold. Each one of you will become generals in my army. Anything you wish for will be yours.”
Once again his proclamation was met with nothing but tense silence, as the soldiers all stood in perfect attention, none of them moving. There was nothing but eerie silence, and the howling of the wind. The mist of the Canyon blew over them in waves, enveloping them, coming and going as they stared out.
Andronicus was stumped. He suddenly snatched a bow and arrow from one of his soldier’s hands, pulled back and fired it at the closest McCloud soldier.
But the second the arrow hit the invisible shield of the Canyon, it disintegrated.
Andronicus grabbed a dagger from his belt, and threw it.
That disintegrated, too.
He leaned back and roared, in a rage, not knowing how to cross. It was the one spot left in the world that stumped him, the one thing left he could not have.
Andronicus had no choice. He had to turn back home. He had been duped, and he had to admit it. He would have to find another way, another time, to cross the Canyon, to subdue the Ring. The longer he waited here, the more time he wasted.
But before he left, Andronicus had to let his bad mood out on someone. So before he turned to leave, he grabbed one of his common soldiers, raised him up high above his head with two hands, then ran for the Canyon, and threw him over the edge. As his body crossed the edge of the Canyon, Andronicus expected the man to disintegrate, to crumble into ashes, as the others.
But Andronicus was shocked as he watched this man’s body fly through the air, over the rim of the Canyon, perfectly intact, then plunge down below, screaming and flailing all the way down to the bottom, to his death.
Andronicus stood there, blinking several times, not understanding what had happened. It was as if the shield had suddenly been turned off.
Andronicus grabbed another soldier and shoved him, this time right down the center, towards the bridge. The man was terrified, seeing what had happened to his peers, but Andronicus jabbed him in the back of his neck with a spear, and the man ran obediently, bracing himself with his hands before his face as he ran towards the bridge, expecting to die.
But this time, something different happened: the soldier kept running, right onto the bridge, not disintegrating as the others had. He stood there, in the midst of the McCloud soldiers, alive.
The McCloud soldiers all seemed shocked, too. They jumped into action and attacked the lone soldier, killing him on the spot.
They then turned and looked at the Empire army with a whole new respect—and fear. No longer was there a barrier between them. Something had happened.
The hundreds of McCloud soldiers slowly stepped backwards, began to retreat, looking nervous, not understanding what was happening.
Andronicus could not understand it either. The shield was down. It was really down. What had happened?
He would not wait to find out.
“CHARGE!” he screamed.
Thousands of his men rushed forward, onto the bridge, stampeding it, slaughtering the McCloud men as they went. The remaining McCloud soldiers turned and ran.
Andronicus watched, waiting to see what would happen, if the shield would somehow come back up.
But to his amazement, his men were fine. They kept charging, all the way across the bridge, and onto the McCloud side of the Ring. They continued charging, standing firmly on McCloud soil.
Safe.
The shield was down.
Andronicus smiled, happier than he’d ever been in his life. He drew his sword, and charged with them. He blended with the stampede, and he killed some of his own men on the way across the bridge, just for fun. He felt like a little boy again.
In moments he landed himself on the McCloud side of the Ring, feeling the soil of the Ring beneath him for the very first time. It was a moment he had dreamed of his entire life. He could not believe it.
He was
here
.
Andronicus knelt down and felt the soil with his palms, as all his men rushed past him, then leaned over and kissed the earth.
He looked up and saw, on the horizon, the McCloud city.
He grinned, wider than he ever had in his life.
It was time to pay McCloud a visit.