A Reign of Steel (5 page)

*

Gwendolyn,
despondent as she trailed her people in the return to King’s Court, rode
through the rear gates of King’s Court and already heard the distant cheers of
celebration coming from the other side. Her people were elated, dancing and
cheering, throwing their hats into the air as they all poured through the
gates, returning to the courtyards of the city they knew and loved, the city they
called home. Everyone rushed to congratulate the Legion, Kendrick, and the victorious
Silver.

But
Gwendolyn proceeded with a pit in her stomach, torn by mixed feelings. On the
one hand, she was of course elated to be back here, too, elated that they had
conquered the McClouds, elated to see that Kendrick and the others were safe.
She took pride in seeing the McCloud corpses littered all over the place, and she
was thrilled to see that her brother Godfrey had managed to survive, sitting
off to the side nursing a wound, head in hand.

Yet
at the same time, Gwendolyn could not quell her deep sense of foreboding, her
certainty that some other terrible calamity was coming for them all, and that
the best thing for her people to do was to evacuate before it was too late.

But
her people were swept up in victory. They would hear no reason as she was
ushered, with thousands of others, into the sprawling city she knew so well. As
they entered, Gwen was relieved to see that, at least, the McClouds had been
killed quickly, before they’d had a chance to do any real damage to all of her
careful rebuilding.

“Gwendolyn!”

Gwendolyn
turned to see Kendrick dismount, rush forward, and embrace her. She hugged him
back, his armor hard and cold, as she handed Guwayne to Illepra beside her.

“My
brother,” she said, looking up at him, his eyes shining with victory. “I am
proud of you. You’ve done more than hold our city—you have vanquished our attackers.
You and your Silver. You embody our code of honor. Father would be proud.”

Kendrick
grinned as he bowed his head.

“I
am grateful for your words, sister. I was not about to allow your city, our
city, father’s city, be destroyed by those heathens. I was not alone; you should
know that our brother Godfrey put up the first resistance. He and a small
handful of others, and even the Legion—they all helped hold back the attackers.”

Gwen
turned to see Godfrey walking over at them, a beleaguered smile on his face,
holding one hand to the side of his head, caked with dried blood.

“You
became a man today, my brother,” she said to him in earnest, draping a hand on
his shoulder. “Father would be proud.”

Godfrey
smiled back sheepishly.

“I
just wanted to warn you,” he said.

She
smiled.

“You
did far more than that.”

Alongside
him came Elden, O’Connor, Conven, and dozens of Legion members.

“My
lady,” Elden said. “Our men fought valiantly here today. Yet I’m sad to say, we
have lost many.”

Gwen
looked past him and saw the dead bodies all over King’s Court. Thousands of McClouds—yet
also dozens of Legion recruits. Even a handful of Silver were dead. It brought
back painful memories of the last time her city was invaded. It was hard for
Gwen to look.

She
turned and saw a dozen McClouds, captives, still alive, heads down, hands
behind their backs.

“And
who are these?” she asked.

“The
McCloud generals,” Kendrick replied. “We’ve kept them alive. They are all that
remains of their army. What do you command we do with them?”

Gwendolyn
looked them over slowly, staring them in the eye as she did. Each one stared
back at her, proud, defiant. Their faces were crude, typical McClouds, never
showing remorse.

Gwen
sighed. There had been a time when she had thought that peace was the answer to
everything, that if only she could be kind enough and gracious enough to her
neighbors, could show enough goodwill, then they’d be kind to her and her
people.

But
the longer she ruled, the more she saw that others only interpreted overtures
of peace as a sign of weakness, as something to be taken advantage of. All her
efforts at peace had culminated in this: a surprise attack. And on Pilgrimage Day
no less, the holiest day of the year.

Gwendolyn
felt herself hardening inside. She did not have the same naïveté, the same
faith in man, that she once did. More and more, she had faith in only one
thing: a reign of steel.

As
Kendrick and the others all looked to her, Gwendolyn raised her voice:

“Kill
them all,” she said.

Their
eyes widened in surprise, and respect. They clearly had not expected this from
their queen who had always strived for peace.

“Did
I hear correctly, my lady?” Kendrick asked, shock in his voice.

Gwendolyn
nodded.

“You
did,” she replied. “When you’re done, collect their corpses, and expel them
from our gates.”

Gwendolyn
turned and walked away, through the courtyard of King’s Court, and as she did, she
heard behind her the screams of the McClouds. Despite herself, she flinched.

Gwen
walked through a city filled with corpses and yet filled with cheering and
music and dancing, thousands of people swarming back to their homes, refilling
the city as if nothing bad had ever happened. As she watched them, her heart
filled with dread.

“The
city is ours again,” Kendrick said, coming up beside her.

Gwendolyn
shook her head.

“Just
for a short while.”

He
looked at her in surprise.

“What
do you mean?”

She
stopped and faced him.

“I’ve
seen the prophecies,” she said. “The ancient scripts. I’ve spoken with Argon.
I’ve dreamt a dream. An attack is coming our way. It was a mistake to return
here. We must all evacuate at once.”

Kendrick
looked at her, his face ashen, and Gwen sighed as she surveyed her people.

“But
my people will not listen.”

Kendrick
shook his head.

“What
if you’re mistaken?” he said. “What if you are looking too deeply into
prophecies? We have the finest fighting army in the world. Nothing can reach
our gates. The McClouds are dead, and we have no other enemies left in the Ring.
The Shield is up and holds strong. And we also have Ralibar, wherever he is.
You have nothing to fear.
We
have nothing to fear.”

Gwendolyn
shook her head.

“That
is precisely the moment when you have the most to fear,” she replied.

Kendrick
sighed.

“My
lady, this was just a freak attack,” he said. “They surprised us on Pilgrimage Day.
We shall never leave King’s Court unguarded again. This city is a fortress. It
has held for thousands of years. There is no one left to topple us.”

“You
are wrong,” she said.

“Well,
even if I am, you see that the people won’t leave. My sister,” Kendrick said,
his voice softening, imploring, “I love you. But I speak as your commander. As
the commander of the Silver. If you try to force your people to evacuate, to do
what they do not want to do, you will have a revolt on your hands. They do not
see whatever danger that you do. And to be honest, I do not even see it myself.”

Gwendolyn
looked at her people, and she knew that Kendrick was right. They would not
listen to her. Even her own brother did not believe her.

And
it broke her heart.

*

Gwendolyn
stood alone on the upper parapets of her castle, holding Guwayne tight and looking
out at the sunset, the two suns hanging low in the sky. Down below, she heard
the muted shouts and celebrations of her people, all preparing for a huge night
of celebration. Out there, she saw the rolling vistas of the lands surrounding King’s
Court, a kingdom at its peak. Everywhere was the bounty of summer, endless
fields of green, orchards, a lush land rich with bounty. The land was content,
rebuilt after so much tragedy, and she saw a world at peace with itself.

Gwendolyn
furrowed her brow, wondering how any sort of darkness could ever reach here.
Maybe the darkness she had imagined had already come in the form of the McClouds.
Maybe it had already been averted, thanks to Kendrick and the others. Maybe
Kendrick had been right. Maybe she had grown too cautious since she had become
Queen, had seen too much tragedy. Maybe she was, like Kendrick said, looking
too deeply into things.

After
all, to evacuate her people from their homes, to lead them across the Canyon,
onto ships, to the volatile Upper Isles, was a drastic move, a move reserved
for a time of the greatest calamity. What if she did so, and no tragedy ever
befell the Ring? She’d be known as the Queen who panicked with no danger in
sight.

Gwendolyn
sighed, clutching Guwayne as he squirmed in her arms, and wondered if she were
losing her mind. She looked up and searched the skies for any sign of Thorgrin,
hoping, praying. At least, she hoped for any sign of Ralibar, wherever he was.
But he, too, had not returned.

Gwen
watched an empty sky, once again disappointed. Once again, she would have to rely
on herself. Even her people, who had always supported her, who had looked to
her as a god, now seemed to distrust her. Her father had never prepared her for
this. Without the support of her people, what sort of Queen would she be? Powerless.

Gwen
desperately wanted to turn to someone for comfort, for answers. But Thorgrin
was gone; her mother was gone; seemingly everyone she knew and loved was gone.
She felt at a crossroads, and had never felt more confused.

Gwen
closed her eyes and called upon God to help her. She tried with all her will to
summon him. She had never been one to pray much, but her faith was strong, and
she felt certain that he existed.

Please,
God. I am so confused. Show me how to best protect my people. Show me how to
best protect Guwayne. Show me how to be a great ruler.

“Prayers
are a powerful thing,” came a voice.

Gwen
spun at once, instantly relieved to hear that voice. Standing there, several
feet away, was Argon. He was clothed in his white cloak and hood, holding his
staff, looking out at the horizon instead of her.

“Argon,
I need answers. Please. Help me.”

“We
are always in need of answers,” he replied. “And yet they do not always come. Our
lives are meant to be lived out. The future cannot always be told for us.”

“But
it can be hinted at,” Gwendolyn said. “All the prophecies I’ve read, all the
scrolls, the history of the Ring—still point to a great darkness that is coming.
You must tell me. Will it occur?”

Argon
turned and stared at her, his eyes filled with fire, darker and scarier than she’d
ever seen them.

“Yes,”
he replied.

The
definiteness of his answer scared her more than anything. He, Argon, who always
spoke in riddles.

Gwen
shivered inside.

“Will
it come here, to King’s Court?”

“Yes,”
he replied.

Gwen
felt her sense of dread deepening. She also felt secure in her conviction that
she had been right all along.

“Will
the Ring will be destroyed?” she asked.

Argon
looked to her, and nodded slowly.

“There
are but a few things left that I can tell you,” he said. “If you choose, this
can be one of them.”

Gwen
thought long and hard. She knew Argon’s wisdom was precious. Yet this was
something she really needed to know.

“Tell
me,” she said.

Argon
took a deep breath as he turned and surveyed the horizon for what felt like
forever.

“The
Ring will be destroyed. Everything you know and love will be wiped away. The
place you now stand will be nothing but flaming embers and ashes. All of the Ring
will be ashes. Your nation will be gone. A darkness is coming. A darkness
greater than any darkness in our history.”

Gwendolyn
felt the truth of his words reverberate inside her, felt the deep timbre of his
voice resonate to her very core. She knew that every word he spoke was true.

“My
people do not see this,” she said, her voice shaking.

Argon
shrugged.

“You
are Queen. Sometimes force must be used. Not only against one’s enemies. But
even against one’s people. Do what you know. Do not always seek your people’s
approval. Approval is an elusive thing. Sometimes, when your people hate you
the most, that is a sign that you are doing the best thing for them. Your
father was blessed with a reign of peace. But you, Gwendolyn, you will have a far
greater test: you will have a reign of steel.”

As
Argon turned to walk away, Gwendolyn stepped forward and reached out for him.

“Argon,”
she called.

He
stopped, but did not turn around.

“Just
tell me one more thing. I beg you. Will I ever see Thorgrin again?”