The Sorcerer's Ring: Book 05 - A Vow of Glory (16 page)

Gwen
cleared her throat.

"I
am here to serve you in any way I can," she said back to them, raising her
voice to be heard over the howling of the wind. "I hope that the gods give
me strength to serve you well.”

"You
already have, my lady!" yelled a woman from the crowd, and the others
answered with a cheer.

Gwendolyn’s
brow furrowed with concern.

"It
is only fair that you know what lies ahead of us,” she continued. “As you know,
the shield is down. As you may not know, Andronicus and his men have already
invaded the Ring. It will not be long until they reach our city. We are vastly
outnumbered. We will do our best to defend the city. But you must prepare
yourselves for war, and for a siege.”

"My
lady, our great city has been attacked many times,” called out another citizen.
“We do not for death. Not even from Andronicus. If we go down, it will be as
free men and women. We want nothing more!”

There
arose another cheer from the crowd, then the Silesians began to dissipate, to
head back to their fortifying the lower city, boarding windows and securing
gates.

“Shall
we?” Srog asked.

They
continued their tour of the lower city, leading them through a series of
twisting streets and alleyways, past impressive fortifications, all built into
this startling city perched on the side of the Canyon.

Srog led
them through an arched stone gate and down a long peninsula of rock jutting twenty
feet into the Canyon.

"Canyon
Point," Srog said.

They walked
to the end, the wind even stronger here, cold gusts bringing tears to Gwen’s
eyes. She looked down and saw her feet enveloped in the mist that rolled in on
the breeze. Then she looked up, out into the expanse. She felt dwarfed by the
enormity of this spot in the world.

"You
stand in the western-most point of the Ring," Srog said. “We use this
platform as a lookout, when the mists are not too strong. From here, you can
gain a commanding view of lower Silesia.”

Srog
turned back and faced the Canyon wall, and Gwen turned with him. She gasped, amazed
at how impressive lower Silesia was. She saw thousands of people milling about
their lives, stacked one story beneath the next, as if none knew what was going
on above or below them. She could see why this place had lasted thousands of
years. It was insurmountable.

"My
lady," Srog said. "On behalf of my people, before the battle begins,
we would like to know your position on surrender.”

Gwen
turned and saw the faces of all the men darken.

"I
think we would all agree this is a once-in-a-lifetime situation,” Srog said. “We
have several thousand fine warriors prepared to fight to the death—but they
will be up against a million men. Even the best warriors have their limits. We
can hold them back, maybe. But for how long?”

"Perhaps
long enough for Thor and the others to return with the Sword?" Gwen said.

The
others looked at each other skeptically.

"Of
course, my lady," Brom said, "we all love Thor as a son. And we all
have great faith in his courage. But even with as much respect as we have for
them, we all know the odds of their return are next to impossible. And being
practical warriors, we must make contingency plans.”

“My
lady, we will stand by whatever you choose,” Srog said, “but we do need to
know. Do you at any point plan on surrendering the city to Andronicus?”

"That
would be naive," Kendrick interjected. “We all know Andronicus’ reputation.
He kills everyone. A surrender would be to offer ourselves up to slaughter. Or
best case, to be his slaves. And he is merciless.”

"Then
again,” Kolk said, “if we allow him to control this city and the Western
Kingdom, he might make a deal. And if we don’t surrender, we might end up dead,
or slaves, anyway.”

As
Gwen listened to all the arguments, she felt overwhelmed with the weight of the
decision before her. She did not want to make the wrong one. Yet it seemed
that, no matter what she did, she could do no right. Either way, people could
die.

"Srog,"
she said, turning to him, "this may be my father's court, but Silesia is
your
city. These are your people. You
have lived with them, and fought with them, your entire life. I want to know
what you think first. What they think. How do Silesians feel about surrender?”

Srog
looked down, grave, and rubbed his beard.

"Silesians
are a very warm and friendly people. But they're also a very proud people. We
have never surrendered, not once in the history of the Ring. They don't know
what surrender means.”

He
sighed.

“They
would follow you, my lady, whatever you choose. But they would not want you to
surrender on their account. They value life. But they value honor more.”

"And
Kendrick,” she said, turning to him. “What do you think?”

Kendrick
furrowed his brow, looking out at the Canyon.

"A
difficult decision,” he said. “On the one hand, it is prized to be fearless. Yet
one does not want to be the uncompromising ruler who sends all his people to
their deaths out of pride. Remember what I said: to be a ruler is different
than being a soldier.”

"What
would father have done?" Gwen asked.

Kendrick
slowly shook his head.

"Father
was a stubborn, proud man. He was more warrior than king. The decision you face
is not a decision for a warrior. It is a decision for a King. What matters now is
what
you
would do.”

Gwendolyn
felt the weight of his words. She turned from the others, took several steps out,
to the very tip of the landing, and looked out at the Canyon.

Gwen
stood there, thinking. Kendrick's words rang in her head. They were true. After
a certain point she had to stop worrying and thinking of what others thought,
what others would decide. She had to stop feeling as if she weren’t qualified enough
to make a decision. She thought back to all of her years of study, in the House
of Scholars. She thought of all the wars she had studied, all the sieges she
had been quizzed on. She pondered the Annals of the MacGils, the history of the
Ring. She recalled all the histories of surrender, of protracted sieges. She
remembered reading of a few surrenders that had gone smoothly; but she
remembered many more that had gone poorly. And none of the invaders were as
ruthless as Andronicus.

Gwendolyn
also recalled all the rulers she had read about, and the ones who had succeeded
and the ones who did not. She felt that being a good ruler was not always about
making the most logical decision, but sometimes about making the decision that
held the most nobility, the most honor, for the people. She stood there and
closed her eyes, willing for her father to help her make the right choice.

As she
did, she felt a sudden strength and clarity overcome her. She felt she was not
alone: there was the blood of six MacGil kings coursing through her. She was a
MacGil, just like all the others. Just because she was a woman, it did not make
her any lesser.

She
turned and faced the others, her eyes aglow with a fierce determination.

"We
may all die here together,” she said, her voice booming with confidence. “But we
will not surrender. We will never surrender. That is who we are. And who we are
is more important than how we die.”

The
men all looked back at her, eyes widening with a new respect, even a look of
awe. They all nodded gravely, and she could see they agreed. She could also see
in their eyes that they had, finally, found their true leader.

Thor and
the other Legion members marched, as they had for hours, on the narrow path
that led from the jungle and took them into a desert clime, Krohn at their side
as they followed the boy. Thor had been surprised to see the shocking change of
terrain, from a wall of jungle, to an arid wasteland, nothing but open sky
before them, dominated by the beating sun. They had left before first light at
the behest of the boy’s grandpa, who did not want them to be spotted by the
Empire. The boy had been gracious enough to accompany them all this way,
despite his grandpa’s telling him not to. He had insisted on seeing them all
off, on putting them all on the right trail.

Finally,
after hours of marching, they reached a fork in the road, splitting in three
directions.

"You
see, this is why I had to come," said the boy, as they all stood there,
breathing hard. “This is the fourth time the road has forked. Each time gets
more confusing. I didn't want you to end up on the wrong road. If you had,
you'd be dead by now. There are monsters in this desert plain you cannot
imagine.”

The
boy sighed.

“But now
that we’ve reached the final fork, I can turn back around and you can be on
your way. Just take the far right path here, and it will bring you to Slave City.
I wish you luck.”

They
all crowded around the boy with gratitude, and Thor reached out and laid a hand
on his shoulder.

“We owe
you a great debt for the kindness you have shown us,” Thor said. “You saved our
lives yesterday, total strangers, by bringing us to your grandfather's cottage.
And now, once again, by leading us to the right road. How can we repay you for
your service?"

The
boy shrugged humbly.

"You
needn’t repay me," he said. "I like having the company. It gets
lonely out here. Besides, I hate the Empire, and I’d like to see you defeat
them and free us from this existence. I hate living in hiding. I want to be
free.”

"We
will strive to do all that and more," Thor said, “yet surely there must be
something we can do for you? Anything?"

The
boy looked down to the ground.

"Well,
there is one thing," he said, hesitant. "I have always dreamed of
joining the Legion. I know I am too young now. And too small. But if you survive
all this, if the Ring survives, maybe one day, I can find you and you can let
me try out for it. That is all I ask. I know I'm small, but I can throw a spear
better than anyone I know.”

Thor
smiled down at the boy.

"You
have a big heart," he said. "And it wasn't long ago that I was your
size—and despite that, I joined the Legion. I don’t see why you can’t, too.
Right guys?” Thor asked, turning to the others.

They
all nodded back enthusiastically.

“He
has more heart than half the Legion,” Reece said.

“We
will make sure they take you seriously,” O’Connor said. “It is the least we can
do.”

The
boy grinned wide.

“Tell
me boy," Thor said, "what is your name? You never told us.”

The
boy looked up and squinted.

"I
don't have one,” he responded. “It is not our custom to give names here in the
Empire. We are all slaves to the great Andronicus. Giving someone a name is
punishable by death. Some of us take names upon ourselves. Hidden names, which
we keep inside. But we are to never tell anyone.”

“You
can tell us yours,” Thor said. “We vow to keep it a secret.”

The
boy looked at all their faces, hesitating, and Thor could see the fear in his
eyes. Finally, he cleared his throat and said:

“Ario.”

The
boy quickly reached out, clasped forearms with Thor, then turned and hurried
off, bouncing back down the road towards the jungle.

"Remember,"
the boy called out, "do not stray from the path. The city comes upon you
quickly. Be careful.”

With
that, the boy turned and ran, disappearing down the road.

Thor
turned and looked at the others, and they all followed the path closely.

Hour
followed hour, and the second sun rose and grew unbearably hot as they marched
deeper and deeper into the wasteland. As he marched, left alone with the
monotony of his thoughts, Thor wondered when all of this would end. He saw before
him the footsteps of those who must have stolen the Sword, their prints deep.
The boy had been tracking their steps the entire way, and Thor was beginning to
feel confident that they were close on their trail. He hoped that they could
reach the city in time, catch the thieves before their arrival, and somehow get
the Sword and get home, undetected by the Empire, before it was too late.

As
they continued to march, Thor's legs shaking, growing weary, finally they
turned a bend, the land sloped off down below, and they were afforded a bird’s-eye
view of Slave City. There it sat, sprawling on the horizon. It was the largest
city Thor had ever seen, low and flat, stretching for miles with no end in sight.
It had a drab, industrial feeling, with thousands of structures built close to
each other.

Amidst
these structures worked thousands of slaves, packed into the streets, milling
about like ants. Even from here, Thor could see that they were chained to each
other, and that among them were thousands of Empire taskmasters, whipping them.
Punctuating the city were large flashes of light, and Thor saw small fires
shoot up from the ground, all over the place. The city blended into the desert
land, and Thor was surprised to see it was not enclosed.