The Sorcerer's Ring: Book 05 - A Vow of Glory (33 page)

He
sighed.

“And
as for you my dear," he said, "you should know that there are no
positions of honor in my ranks. There are no leaders but me, and all those who
are slaves to me are slaves. Including you.”

Andronicus
nodded and two soldiers rushed forward and grabbed her arms roughly.

"Let
me go!" Gwen screamed, struggling. "You promised. You promised! Where
is your honor?”

Andronicus
laughed heartily.

“Honor?”
he asked. “That is something I lost long ago. And I am so glad I did. I can’t
think of how many battles I would have lost without it.”

His
laughter died down.

"I'm
afraid, my dear, that an example must be made of you. A particularly brutal example.
You see, it is the only way that anyone who dares to defy me will learn.”

Andronicus
turned.

“MCCLOUD!”
he shrieked.

From out
of the ranks, to Gwendolyn's horror, there emerged the elder King McCloud, his
face disfigured, half of it branded, marked by a huge burn mark with the emblem
of Andronicus’ Empire.

"It
is time we teach this MacGil girl a lesson,” Andronicus said. “I would do it
myself, but I get more pleasure from watching my enemies torture each other. In
fact, is one of my greatest hobbies.”

“I
will do anything you say, my lord," McCloud said humbly to him.

"I
know that you will,” Andronicus sneered back coldly. “You are going to have
your way with this woman. Maybe you'll get lucky and she will bear you a son.
And I shall watch it all.”

A huge
smiled crossed McCloud’s face, as he looked Gwen up and down as if she were his
prey.

“It
will be my pleasure, my lord," McCloud said.

Gwendolyn
screamed and struggled as McCloud charged her. She managed to break the grasp
of the two soldiers—and turned and ran.

But she
did not get very far. She had only gone a few feet when McCloud tackled her
from behind, sending her flying, face-down to the ground, laying on top of her,
knocking the wind out of her.

“NO!"
she screamed, flailing.

But he
was too strong for her. Soon his thick, rough hands were tearing at her
clothes, and she felt the cold winter breeze sting her bare skin.

She heard
the cheers of all of Andronicus's men, and she screamed and screamed, struggling
with every she had, wishing and praying that she were anywhere else. Somewhere,
high overhead, she could have sworn she heard Estopheles, circling, screeching.

She
closed her eyes, trying to make it all go away, imagining herself someplace,
anywhere else. She imagined herself with Thor. With their child. In a field of
summer flowers. In a paradise far, far away from the horrors of this world.

Thor
stood alone in a vast field of scarlet flowers, lit by a blood red sunset. Over
his head, somewhere high up, circled Estopheles, screeching. Up ahead, in the
distance, there was a lone figure, lying limp in the grass. He could not tell
who it was.

Thor
walked towards it, his heart pounding as he went. The sky darkened with each
step, and he felt an increasing sense of foreboding. Something inside told him
it was the body of someone he loved.

As he approached,
he could tell, from the flowing white lace spilled on the ground, that it was a
woman. He saw her long, blonde hair, spilling out around her shoulders, with
dread, and before he reached her, he knew who it was.

Gwendolyn.

Thor
reached out with a trembling hand, grabbed her shoulder, and slowly turned her
over, afraid to see what he might find. He was breathless at the site.

There Gwendolyn
lay, her body covered in blood, not moving.

Thor
began to weep uncontrollably, unable to stop himself. He leaned down, scooped
her up in his arms, stood, and leaned back and shouted to the heavens.

"NO!"
Thor shouted.

His
cry soared up, echoing, reaching to the very heavens, as he held her limp, in
his arms, the love of his life. The one woman who had meant more to him than
anyone he had ever known. The woman he had planned on marrying. Somehow, dead.
And he not there to save her.

"NO!"
he shrieked again.

Thor’s
cry was met by a screech, as Estopheles circled and swooped down, claws out,
right for his face.

Thor woke
breathing hard, sitting straight up, looking all around, his heart slamming in
his chest. Disoriented, he had a hard time discerning what was real, where he
was.

Thor
gradually realized that he was still in the boat, that he had fallen asleep in it—that
all his Legion brothers had. The whole group of them were lying there, sleeping,
as the boat slowly drifted down the river, carried on the slow current. He tried
to remember, wondering how long they had been sleeping, how far they had drifted,
where they were going. He felt as if they had been on this journey forever.

Thor
took a deep breath, thinking of his dream, of Gwendolyn, trying to shake the
awful image. It had seemed so real. Too real. The image terrified him.

He
knew it was just a dream, yet at the same time he sensed that it was more than
that. He sensed, in every fabric of his body, that she was in danger. That
something horrible had happened to her.

It
tore him up inside. More than ever he wanted to jump from the boat and run to
her, to rescue her from whatever it was.

But he
was a world away, and there was nothing he could do. He had never felt more
helpless. A part of him hated himself for going on this quest. Should he have
stayed behind?

Thor
sat up straighter, and Krohn sat up beside him, whining, leaning his head into
Thor's chest as Thor stroked him. Krohn kept whining, and Thor knew that Krohn
sensed it, too, that Krohn, too, knew that something had happened to Gwendolyn.
After all, Krohn was almost as attached to her as Thor was.

Thor
felt a pit in his stomach that would not go away. He felt as if he had abandoned
her in her time of need.

Thor
looked up and saw yet another breaking dawn here on this side of the world; it
broke as a day of gloom. There was no sun to be seen anywhere, only thick black
clouds, with a muted light struggling to appear through them. They floated past
vast stretches of wasteland, nothing but those dead black trees everywhere,
those eerie birds, staring back, watching them. Apparently they did not sing in
the morning. Instead, they watched them silently, their glowing eyes moving
slowly, following the tides of the boat.

Thor
looked straight ahead, and as he did, he was surprised to see that the river
was coming to an end. In a few feet, their boat slammed into land, startling
him, and waking the others.

The
others all sat up with a jolt, one by one, and looked around, startled. Without
waiting, Thor gained his feet, walked to the front of the boat and jumped onto
dry land, Krohn on his heels. The other boys followed him.

"Where
are we?" Reece asked, jumping onto dry land beside him, looking around in
wonder.

“Is
this where the river ends?” O’Connor asked.

"I
have no idea," Thor said.

The
three brothers jumped off the boat, too, Drake holding out the map and looking
around.

"Is
this where your golden map has lead us?" Indra asked sarcastically.

"We
are exactly where we are supposed to be," Drake answered defensively.

“And
where is that, exactly?” she said. “In the middle of nowhere?”

"Actually,
our destination is close,” Dross said, leaning in. “According to this map, it's
not much farther now.”

“Follow
us," Drake said, setting off with his two brothers.

"I
don't like this place," Conval said to Conven, standing close.

Thor
was just thinking the same thing. It was hard to see far ahead, with the thick fog
rolling in and out. He could only catch glimpses of the trees, of a barren
wasteland.

After
trekking for some time, finally, the fog cleared, and Thor spotted a huge,
circular clearing open up before them. The landscape changed abruptly from dirt
to a purple grass, as if one land was being demarcated by the other. It was as
if they stood at an intersection: in one direction was a land of green, in another
a yellow desert.

“What
is this place?” Elden asked.

"It
looks like a crossroads of sorts,” Reece said.

"The
crossroads of the dead,” Indra said. “From here the land leads to three
terrains. It is the edge of the underworld.”

"Now
what?" Thor asked, turning to Drake.

But something
strange happened: as Thor turned to look at Drake, he saw the three brothers suddenly
retreating, taking several steps backwards, away from the others.

Before
Thor could process what was happening, the fog lifted again, and he suddenly
saw, bearing down on them, a hundred Empire soldiers.

Before
Thor could reach to draw his sword, he felt himself pounced upon from behind,
grabbed by several soldiers and slammed down to the floor. All around him, his
Legion brothers were ambushed, too.

In the
blink of an eye, they were captured and bound, rendered helpless. They had been
setup.

Everyone,
except for Drake and Dross and Durs. The Empire did not touch them.

The
three brothers came forward and stood over Thor. All with malicious smiles
across their faces.

Thor
could not believe it. He had been betrayed. By his own brothers.

"I
trusted you," Thor said to Drake.

Drake
smiled and shook his head.

"You
never had good judgment," he responded.

"But
why?" Reece asked. "Why would you betray us? Your own Legion
brothers?”

"You
are not our brothers,” Dross answered, then turned to Thor. “And especially
you. We have waited half our lives to see you dead. And now your day has come.”

"Say
goodbye, little brother," Durs said.

He
drew his sword with a distinctive ring, as the Empire soldiers held Thor down tight.

Thor
tried to struggle, but it was useless. There was something about these ropes that
nullified his power. He could not even muster the strength to squirm.

He had
nothing left to do but watch helplessly as Durs stepped forward and raised his
sword high, aiming for Thor's exposed neck. Thor knew that his time had come.

And he
had but one wish left in the world: if only he could see Gwendolyn again.