The Sorcerer's Ring: Book 05 - A Vow of Glory (21 page)

There
came a surprised gasp from amongst Gwen’s people, and she examined Bronson and
saw the severed hand, the scars; she could tell he had been through hell, yet
he stood there proudly. There was something about him that she liked; he seemed
nothing like his father, who was a real brute, who Gwendolyn remembered with
distaste.

“The
McClouds don’t change,” Kendrick piped in. “They are who they are. They always
have been.”

“You
are lucky to have escaped with your life,” Brom added.

"We
have come to ask you for help,” Luanda said, looking from Kendrick to Srog to
Brom—to anyone but Gwendolyn. “We ask you to take us in. We were told that the worthy
half of King's Court had fled here. We want to defect from the McCloud side of
the Ring. We want to be with the MacGils.”

“To
fight
with the MacGils,” Bronson added
proudly. “I will swear my loyalty to you. I will fight to the death for you. Especially
against my father and his men.”

Gwendolyn
and the others exchanged a glance, and she could see the hesitation in their
eyes.

"And
how do we know we can trust you?" Brom asked, stepping forward and staring
McCloud down coldly. "Your father killed more of my men then I can count.
And all in a brutal and cowardly way. How do we know the son is not like the
father? How do we know this is not all a trap, that you are not merely waiting
to betray us?”

Bronson
slowly raised his arm, displaying the stump where his hand once was.

"This
is my father’s work,” he said grimly. “What was once between us is no longer. I
would gladly be first to kill him in battle.”

Brom
stared back, as if summing him up, and finally seemed to believe him.

Gwendolyn
believed him, too. He seemed to be an honest and sincere man.

"You
are family," Gwen said to Luanda, breaking the silence. She turned to
Bronson. "And that means you are family now, too. If she loves you, that
is good enough for me. We accept you with open arms.”

Bronson
nodded back, his eyes flooding with appreciation.

"Andronicus
will soon attack, and we will be in for a siege,” Gwendolyn warned. “We will
need every hand we can get.”

"I
am honored to fight for your cause, my lady," Bronson said.

Luanda
gave Gwendolyn a puzzled look.

"Who
is in charge here?” Luanda asked, looking from face to face. “With Gareth in
King’s Court, I presume that leaves you, Kendrick? Or is it you, Srog?”

All
the others exchanged confused glances; Gwen realized that no one had told
Luanda yet.

"Our
sister is now ruler of the Western Kingdom of the Ring," Kendrick answered.

"
Gwendolyn
?" Luanda said derisively,
disbelieving. She looked Gwen up and down, shocked. "
You
? Ruler?”

"It
was our father's dying wish," Kendrick said firmly.

"But…but,”
Luanda began flustered. “You are a woman. And my
younger
sister, besides. If one of us should rule, then why would
it not be me?"

Gwen
felt the old childhood rush of anger towards Luanda rise up within her. Her
entire life, as long as she could remember, her sister had been deathly jealous
of her. Clearly, nothing had changed.

“
My Lady
,” Steffen interjected.

Luanda
looked down at Steffen with surprise and condescension.

“Pardon
me?” she said.

Steffen
stepped forward, frowning.

“You
will address Gwendolyn, who is now our queen, as ‘
my lady
,’” he said, defensive.

Luanda
looked down at him in surprise, then looked at the set faces of the others and
realized he was serious. She looked at Gwen with consternation.

“You
don't seriously expect me to have to answer to my younger sister?” Luanda asked,
turning to Kendrick.

“You
will
answer to her," Kendrick said
darkly, "if you wish to stay here. Or, if you wish, you can leave the
gates of Silesia, and be at the mercy of the enemy. You will respect our late father's
wish, as the rest of us do.”

Bronson
reached over and laid a hand on Luanda's wrist.

"Luanda,”
he said softly, “your sister has been most kind and generous to accept us here.
I see no reason why we should not answer to her.”

But Luanda’s
eyes flashed with defiance and ambition, as they always had.

"Father
always made bad decisions," Luanda seethed. “This is how we got into this
mess to begin with. Do you really think that you, of all people, are capable of
ruling this people?" she asked Gwendolyn. "Don't you feel ashamed to
even try? Won’t you feel terribly guilty if you fail, if you lead them all to
their deaths?”

"We
are all heading towards our deaths anyway, Luanda," Gwendolyn said calmly.
"The question is not if we die. It's how we live. And yes, to answer your
question, I am capable of leading this people," she said, a new strength
rise within her, actually feeling capable for the first time, now that she was
defending herself. "I don't have to explain myself to you. As Kendrick
said, if you don't like it, our gates are open for you to leave.”

Luanda
flushed, turned, and stormed away.

Bronson
stood there, shifting, clearly embarrassed.

"I
am sorry for her," he said. "I am sure she does not mean it. We have
been through an ordeal.”

“She
does
mean it,” Gwendolyn said. “She has
always meant it. That’s who she is.”

Bronson
lowered his head.

“I,
for one, am most deeply grateful for your having us here. I will speak with
her. She will come around.”

Bronson
quickly bowed, and hurried after her.

There
was a sudden commotion down below, and Gwen looked down over the parapets to
see a woman come running up to the gates, hysterical. Two guards tried to hold her
back, and she screamed, flailing, trying to push past them.

“Let
me pass!" she shrieked. “You must let me pass! I must see the Queen!”

“Let
her through,” Gwendolyn called down.

The
guards turned and looked up at her and released their grip on the woman.

As soon
as they did, she ran through the gates and up the spiral stone staircase, right
for Gwendolyn, weaving through the group of soldiers, crying. She stopped
before her, knelt and lowered her head. The woman was sobbing and shaking, and Gwendolyn’s
heart broke; she reached down, and gently helped pull the woman up.

“You needn’t
kneel before me,” Gwen said compassionately.

"My
lady," the woman heaved, between sobs. "You must help me! You must!
Please!”

"What
is it that troubles you?” Gwen asked.

"My
village—it has been evacuated. They say the Empire is coming. Everyone ran. But
my daughters are back there, in the House of the Sick. They cannot walk. I
could not carry them with me—and the others left too quickly. I have no one to
help me. Please! They are my babies!”

Gwen’s
heart broke inside, hardly able to comprehend this woman’s suffering.

"We
are hearing similar reports from across the Ring, of villages being raided,”
Srog said.

"I
am sorry,” Gwendolyn said to her. “And what would you have us do?”

"Please,
send your men, before it’s too late. Fetch my daughters, bring them here. I
can't imagine their dying all alone, at the hands of those savages. It’s too
cruel.”

“We
might all die here, too,” Kolk said.

“If
they are to die, let them at least die here, with me,” the woman said. “Don't
them die alone out there.
Please
. You
are a woman—you understand. You must help me!”

The woman
reached out and grabbed Gwendolyn’s hand roughly, and Steffen stepped forward
and threw her hand off.

"Do
not lay your hands on our Queen," Steffen rebuked, standing between them.

"It's
okay," Gwendolyn said.

She
reached up and stroked the woman’s hair.

"This
woman has been made mad by her grief,” Gwen continued. “I understand the touch
of grief, all too well.”

Gwen
thought of her father, and kept back tears.

“I
empathize for your daughters,” Gwen said. “I really do. But you must also
understand that we are receiving reports of villages being pillaged, people
murdered, from all corners of the Ring, and that we cannot spare our men to send
out to each and every one. We are also in the final stages of securing our gates
and locking down this city, for the good of all the Silesians and the remainder
of King’s Court, and the thousands of lives here. We need every hand we have. Most
of all, if we were to send a party out there now, for your girls now, they would
not make it back alive. The Empire is too close at this point. Our men would
die, and your girls would die with them.”

Gwendolyn
sighed. She hated having to make these decisions, but she felt that she had an
obligation to look out for the good of her people.

"I'm
so sorry,” she concluded. “I pine for your daughters. I really do. But war is
among us. And hard decisions need to be made.”

"NO!"
the woman shrieked, breaking out into a wail. She threw herself face-down to
the floor, shrieking and wailing. "You can’t let my daughters die!”

Gwendolyn
looked away, out to the horizon, wishing she had never met this woman. She was
beginning to feel what it felt like to be a ruler; she did not like the
feeling.

"I
will go for them," came a voice.

Gwen
turned and saw Kendrick step forward, hand on his hilt, standing nobly, proud
and unflinching.

Gwendolyn
looked at her brother, touched and inspired.

"You
understand that if you leave, we cannot reopen the gates for you,” she said
softly. “You will die out there.”

He
nodded gravely.

“What
better way to die than in a service such as this?" he replied.

Gwendolyn
breathed sharply, taken aback by his chivalry, his fearlessness. She loved her
brother more than ever in that moment; yet she also felt profoundly sad at the
thought of him on this mission.

All
the other soldiers stared grimly, no one able to rebut him.

"I
will join you," Atme said, stepping forward beside Kendrick.

Kendrick
nodded back at his friend.

“Thank
you! Thank you!” the woman cried, rising to her knees and kissing their hands.

Gwendolyn
sighed.

"Kendrick,
I cannot say no to you. You lead by example, as you always have. You do our father's
name great honor to accept this mission upon yourself. You have my blessing. Go,
and save these girls. I will keep these gates open for you as long as I can—up
until the very last second when Andronicus attacks.”

"My
lady, I admire Kendrick’s courage, and I don’t disagree with his mission,” Srog
said gravely. “But I must warn that it takes time to seal the outer gates. It
will not be easy to do with such short notice. You must realize that you
jeopardize the entire city to agree to this mission, and to keep the gates open
as long as you will.”

Gwen
turned and looked out at the horizon. Somewhere out there were this woman's
daughters, sick, alone. She could not stand the thought of it.

“I
thank you for your counsel, my Lord,” she said softly to Srog. “I do understand
the consequences. I will not jeopardize our people. The gates will be closed
when necessary.”

She
turned to Kendrick.

"Go.
Find these girls, and return quickly. I do not wish to close these Gates with
you outside them.”

Kendrick
nodded gravely, then turned and hurried down the parapet, Atme at his side.

The
other men dispersed, and Gwen turned and walked by herself down a stone
embankment at the far end of the parapets, so she could have some time alone,
to process it all—and so she could have a better vantage point to watch
Kendrick and Atme ride off. She stood there, at the very edge of the
fortifications, watching them ride away into the horizon, raising a great cloud
of dust.

As she
stood there, feeling more alone than ever, she craved for Thor. She felt
increasingly that they were facing a battle they could not win, and deep down,
she felt that their only hope was Thor, the Destiny Sword, getting the shield
back up. If she was going to die, she wanted to die with Thor at her side.

She
closed her eyes tightly and prayed to God with all she had that Thor returned
to her.

Please, God. I know I have asked
you too much already. But I ask you one more thing: return Thor to me.

"God
has a mysterious way of answering."

Gwendolyn
did not need to turn to recognize the voice.

She turned
and saw, standing there, Argon. He stood a few feet beside her, looking out at
the horizon, watching Kendrick ride off, his eyes aglow.