A Reign of Steel (9 page)

Thor
writhed, trying to break free of the grip of the white snake—but it was just
too strong. Its muscular body wrapped around him from his ankles to his chest,
squeezing him in a vise. It now faced him, hissing, preparing to bring its open
fangs down on Thor’s throat.

Thor
tried to buck, to thrash, to do anything—but he was helpless. All he could do
was close his eyes and turn as he braced himself for the inevitable snakebite
in his face.

Thor
did not comprehend what was happening here, in this place. He had always
imagined that when he’d found the Land of the Druids, he would be welcome,
greeted by his mother. He expected that he would instantly recognize it as his
home. He had expected nothing like this.

And
now, Thor could not believe that he would spend his final moments here, would die
here, so close to finding his mother, at the mercy of this awful beast.

As
Thor braced himself, he opened his eyes, forcing himself to watch his final seconds
on Earth. And as the snake lowered its fangs, suddenly Thor spotted motion out
of the corner of his eye. It was a man, perhaps in his fifties, a large figure,
with a long beard and shaggy brown hair—a man that Thor dimly recognized. He wore
resplendent armor, the armor of a King, and he, upon seeing Thor, rushed
forward, reached out with his gauntlet, and grabbed the snake by the throat,
snatching it in midair, just inches before it could sink its teeth into Thor’s
face.

Thor
watched in amazement as the man squeezed the snake by the throat, harder and
harder, the snake hissing and gasping. Thor felt the snake’s muscles slowly
relax around his body, as the man squeezed the life out of it.

As
the snake began to loosen, Thor wiggled one arm free and raised his sword and
chopped its body in half.

The
half of the snake wrapped around Thor fell limply to the ground, but the other
half, which the man held, still struggled to live. The man squeezed it harder
and harder until finally, the snake’s eyes bulged open, then closed, and its
body went limp in the man’s hand.

As
the man threw the snake’s carcass down to the ground, Thor looked up at him in
disbelief. It was a man he recognized; a man he’d loved; a man he’d missed
dearly; a man he thought he would never see again.

King
MacGil.

*

As
King MacGil dropped the snake’s head, he looked at Thor, smiling broadly
through his beard, and stepped forward and gave him a hug, embracing him as a
father would a son.

“My
King,” Thor said over his shoulder, as MacGil pulled back and looked at him.

“Thorgrinson,”
MacGil said, clasping a warm hand on Thor’s shoulder, smiling down with
approval. “I told you we would meet again.”

Thor
was speechless. He did not understand what was happening. Had he died and gone
to heaven? Or was he losing his mind?

“But…how?”
Thor asked. “How are you here? Are you alive?”

King
MacGil smiled, put his arm around Thor, turned, and began to walk with him,
leading him down a country path.

“You
always had so many questions.”

“Have
I died?” Thor asked.

King
MacGil laughed in delight, and Thor was elated to hear it. The King’s laugh was
a sound he had missed dearly; indeed, he hadn’t realized until this day how
much he had missed seeing him. In some ways, though he had known him so
briefly, King MacGil was like a father to Thor, and seeing him was like having
his father back.

“No,
my boy,” King MacGil answered, still laughing, “you have not died. In fact, you’ve
just begun to live. You are about to truly live.”

“But…you
died. How are you here?”

“None
of us die, really,” MacGil replied. “I’m no longer in the physical plane, that
is true; but I’m very much alive otherwise. In the Land of the Druids, the veil
between the living and the dead is thinner, more translucent. It is easier to
cross. Your mother sent me here to find you. To guide you to her.”

Thor’s
eyes opened wide in surprise and excitement at the mention of his mother.

“So
she
does
exist,” Thor said.

MacGil
smiled.

“Very
much so.” He sighed. “One cannot traverse this land without a guide. I shall be
yours. You should have waited for me patiently, at the gate, to come get you. Then
you wouldn’t have gotten yourself into all this trouble. But you were always impatient,
Thorgrinson. And that is why I love you!” he said with a laugh.

They
wound their way down a path, and Thor took it all in, wondering.

“I
don’t understand this place at all,” Thor said. “It feels so familiar…and yet,
so foreign.”

MacGil
nodded.

“The
Land of the Druids is different for each person who enters it,” he said. “It is
a different place for me than for you. We might even see two different lands.
You see, Thorgrinson, everything you see here is merely a reflection of your
own consciousness. Your own memories, your own hopes and needs and wants and
fears. Your desires. You might pass through here and see your hometown; see
your first love; see any place that was of importance to you; see the peak
moments of your life play out before you. You might encounter your most
glorious times, your highest ambitions—and you might also encounter your
darkest demons. In that way, the Land of the Druids is the safest and most
pleasurable place on the planet—and yet also the darkest and most dangerous. It
all depends on you. On your mind. On your demons. On how you perceive yourself.
How you perceive the world. And most of all, on how deeply you can control your
mind. Can you shut out a dark thought? Can you give power to a positive one?”

Thor
took it all in, overwhelmed, trying to understand. He realized something as he
listened to the King’s words.

“You,”
Thor said, “you are a reflection of my mind.”

MacGil
nodded back, smiling.

“You
loved me,” he said. “I was an important person to you. A mentor of sorts.”

“When
I leave this place, you’ll be gone,” Thor said, beginning to understand, and
saddened at the thought.

MacGil
nodded.

“When
you leave—
if
you ever leave—then yes, the world will go back to as you
know it. But for now, here we are. As real and as alive as we ever were. Your
entire mind, your entire consciousness, is spread out before you. Don’t you
see, Thorgrin,” he said, draping one arm around his shoulder, “this entire land
is a reflection of
you
. It is an exercise in mind control, Thorgrinson.
Some of your happiest moments, some of your most beautiful memories, will
appear before you on your journey. Though I must warn you: do not let your dark
thoughts overwhelm you, even for an instant. Dark thoughts pass through the
Land of the Druids like fierce storms. If you do not learn to control them,
they will destroy you.”

Thor
gulped, nervous, beginning to understand.

“So
that town I past,” Thor realized, “my hometown. I created that. My mind created
that.”

MacGil
nodded.

“It
was an important place in your life. It was the place you wanted to welcome
you.”

Thor
realized something else.

“And
then that field of flowers I walked through,” he said, “it was indeed where I
first dated Gwendolyn. And that white snake I saw…”

Thor
trailed off, piecing it all together. It was beginning to make sense. Finally,
he was understanding. This place was more powerful than he’d realized. More amazing,
more promising, than he’d ever dreamed. And yet also more terrifying.

They
walked for a long while in silence, until something occurred to Thor.

“And
my mother?” he asked. “Is she alive? Is she a real person? Or just a figment of
my hope and imagination? Is she here only because she exists somewhere deep in
my subconscious? Only because I always wanted her to exist? Only because I
needed her to exist? Only because I dreamed of having a glorious parent?”

King
MacGil was silent, expressionless, as they walked.

“You
seek absolute answers,” he said. “In the Land of the Druids, you will find
there are no absolutes. The only answers you’ll find are within yourself. However
powerful you are inside, that is how powerful this world will be before you.
Prepare yourself, young Thorgrin, and steel yourself to control the hardest,
greatest, most unwieldy weapon of all: your mind.”

*

Thor
traversed the Land of the Druids for hours, MacGil by his side. The two of them
had been laughing and bantering for hours, reminiscing about the old times,
about the hunts they had taken together, about King’s Court, about when Thor
had first met the King’s daughter. They talked about MacGil’s accepting him into
his family; they talked about battle, and knights, and honor, and valor. They
talked about King MacGil’s assassin, and the vengeance that had been taken.
They talked of politics. But mostly they talked of battle. They were both
fearless warriors at their heart, and they understood each other on a deep
level. In some ways, Thor felt as if he were here talking to himself. It felt
so good to be talking to King MacGil again, to have him back at his side. Thor
felt a sense of a break from reality, as if he were wandering in a surreal land,
in a dream from which there was no waking up.

They
passed through vistas that Thor recognized with delight, places that felt so
familiar, places from his hometown, from his countryside, from outside King’s
Court. He felt so comfortable here. A part of him could dimly feel his mind
creating these places as he went, and it was hard to separate the two; Thor
felt as if he were standing at a strange intersection between his own mind and
the external reality of the world. It was scary to him to realize the depth of
power of his mind. If he could create anything, that meant he could create the
most glorious kingdoms with the snap of a finger. Yet if he had a moment of
weakness, that meant that, in just a few moments, he could create the darkest
kingdoms. That terrified him. How could he keep his mind filled with positive
thoughts all the time?

They
crested a hill and both stopped, looking out. Thor gasped, awestruck at the sight.
He could hardly fathom it: spread out below was King’s Court. It was a perfect
replica, so real that Thor was certain it was the real thing. It looked more glorious
than he had ever seen it, thousands of knights in shining armor standing before
the ancient stone walls, standing before the portcullis, lining the parapets.
There were more knights than he’d ever seen, glorious warriors protecting a
glorious city.

King
MacGil stood beside him and smiled.

“Your
mind is a beautiful place, Thorgrin,” he said, looking out and admiring the
view. “I never had that many knights in King’s Court. It seems you have increased
their ranks!”

King
MacGil threw back his head and laughed.

“In
fact, I don’t think I have ever seen that many knights at once,” he added. “The
shining of their armor blinds me. You truly are a warrior at heart.”

Thor
had a hard time believing his mind was creating this; it all seemed so real, so
perfect, more real than anything he’d ever seen.

Thor
set out on the path with MacGil, the road perfectly immaculate, heading toward
the gates. As they went, thousands more knights appeared on the road and stiffened
at attention, lined all up and down the road. Trumpets sounded in the distance.

They
crossed the bridge, over the moat, under the portcullis, and into King’s Court.
As they passed beneath the massive, arched stone gates, waiting to greet them
was a single person, smiling, hand outstretched to them.

Gwendolyn.

Thor
beamed at the sight of her. She looked more beautiful than ever, with her long
blonde hair, bright blue eyes, wearing a regal dress, smiling and holding one
hand out for Thor.

Thor
hurried to her and embraced her and she leaned in and kissed him, hugging him
tight.

Then
they turned and walked through King’s Court together, King MacGil falling in
beside his daughter.

“I’m
glad that you envision my daughter in such a beautiful light,” King MacGil
whispered to him. “I see her the same way.”

“Thorgrinson,”
Gwendolyn whispered, clasping one hand around his arm, leaning in and kissing
his cheek. He could feel her love for him, and it revived him.

“Gwendolyn,”
he said, clasping her hand, holding it tight. Suddenly, Thor remembered. “Where’s
Guwayne?”

No
sooner had he spoken the words then there came the cry of a baby. Thor looked
over to see his son in Gwendolyn’s arms. She held him gently, cradling him,
smiling.

Thor
reached out and took the boy, who leapt into his arms, bigger and older than
Thor remembered. Guwayne hugged Thor, and Thor hugged him back.

“Daddy,”
Guwayne said into his ear.

It
was the first time Thor had ever heard him speak. It was surreal.