A Clash of Honor

CHAPTER TWENTY

Gwen stood there, outside the House of Scholars, and watched as Thor disappeared yet again, riding into the horizon with his Legion members. Once again, she felt a pit in her stomach. She did not feel the same sense of desperation she’d felt when he’d left for the Hundred; it was different, since at least this time he would be coming home soon, and this time he was not risking his life in a dangerous place, but merely helping villages rebuild close to home. He would also be surrounded by loyal friends, and she felt confident he’d be safe; and she, for her part, had Krohn by her side, had her mother’s castle to hide in, and had the other soldiers behind her, who were now at least aware of the depth of Gareth’s treachery.

Yet still, she could not help but feel overwhelmed with a sense of sadness, of longing. In some ways, it was harder this time. She loved him more. More than she had ever loved anybody. She loved him with a love that was hard to explain, that even she did not understand. He was so kind, and sensitive, and loyal, and protective, and proud. It hurt her when he was gone. She wanted him close all the time. And as she reached down and felt her stomach, she sensed that she carried his child. With every move she took, every gesture she made, her body felt different. She felt an energy welling within her, an ever-present feeling. She felt a sense of peace. And that made her miss him all the more.

And even though he was leaving for a peaceful mission, these were troubled times, and one never knew what could happen, even close to home, even on a peaceful mission. A part of her feared for him. And a part of her still feared for herself: she had come too close to being taken away by the Nevaruns, and it had rattled her. Gareth’s treachery never seemed to amaze her, and while she felt supported by the show of arms from the Silver, and the King’s men, she also feared her brother. She was still in danger here. Staying in her mother’s castle would provide her with some security for now-but not for the long run. She and Godfrey would have to find a legal way to oust Gareth soon-or else, she realized, she would have to leave this place for good.

More than ever, Gwen needed to see Argon, to know what the future would hold; but she knew that seeking him out would be a waste of time. He appeared when and if he wanted to, and if he didn’t, she would never find him.

So instead, Gwen walked across the hilltop, watching Thor as he disappeared, farther and farther. Krohn whined beside her and leaned against her leg, virtually sticking to her side; she looked down and smiled, and he licked her hand as she stroked his head. She felt reassured beyond words to have him there; it was like having a piece of Thor with her. He was morphing into a full-grown leopard, and while he was still just a puppy in her eyes, she could see from the frightened looks of others that he was a savage beast in the eyes of others.

She looked back up and wiped a tear as she watched Thor’s contingent fade into the horizon, swallowed in a cloud of dust.

“A horizon of faded dreams,” came a voice.

Gwen did not need to turn to know whose voice it was. She felt overwhelmed with relief. Argon.

Gwen turned slowly and saw him standing there, beside her, a few feet away, wearing his robes, holding his staff, looking out over the horizon as if watching Thor leave with her; she did not know how he got there. He was such a mystery to her. But she felt comforted by his presence.

She turned away, watching the horizon beside him, and smiled.

“Thank you for being here,” she said. “You must have sensed my desire to see you.”

“I always answer when a King summons me,” he said. “If it is a true summons. And a true King.”

She looked at him, startled by his words, but he continued to watch the horizon, expressionless.

“Are you saying that I will rule?” she asked.

“You know the answer to that yourself,” he responded.

“What of my brother, Gareth?” she pressed.

Argon’s face darkened, a slight frown at the corner of his lips.

“His reign appears to be eternal. But it will not be. He who takes the throne by blood must pay its price by blood. There is always a price for everything.”

He turned and stared back, and the intensity in his eyes forced her to look away.

“Do you remember, when you made that vow?” he asked. “To give up your life for Thor’s?”

She nodded, a tear forming at the corner of her eyes. She did not want to die now. Not now.

“Vows bear a heavy price,” he reminded. “Before you pay it, much has to happen. There will be a great future for you. But there will be a little death first,” he said. “Steel yourself and be strong. You will need strength now. More than you’ve ever had in your life. If you can survive what’s to come, you can survive anything.”

Gwen trembled inside, and felt her skin run cold.

“Your words frighten me,” she said.

“But you must learn to fear,” he said. “Rulers must be fearless. But they also must fear.”

“Please,” she pleaded, “tell me what it is I should fear. Give me some warning.”

“If I did, your destiny would change. That cannot be. Not for your sake. And not for the sake of the Ring. You know your history. Need I remind you? The seven sun cycles. The seven moon alignments. It happens once every thousand years. And when will it happen again?” he asked.

Gwen racked her brain, thinking through all the volumes of history she had ingested, all the ancient prophecies she had read.

“The sun and moon event you speak of happens in the next sun cycle,” she said. “But weeks away.”

Argon nodded, satisfied.

“Yes, very good. Very good indeed. You will be a far wiser ruler than your father. In fact, it has been generations since the MacGils have had a ruler like you. So then you know what lies ahead.”

Gwen frowned.

“But I thought those ancient prophecies were just parables, metaphors. I did not think they were meant to be taken literally. I was taught they are open to interpretation.”

“And who is to say which is the right one?” Argon asked.

Gwen’s eyes opened wide.

“Are you saying that it’s all true? That the Ring will come to an end in a matter of weeks? That the ancient prophecies will come to be?”

Argon turned and stared into the horizon for a long time, then finally, he sighed.

“The Ring will come to an end as we know it. We live in a time of great change. Greater than you can imagine. Everything you once knew will be different. There will be a time of tremendous darkness. And a time of great light. If one can survive the darkness.”

Gwen’s mind reeled as she tried to process the gravity of his words.

“It will be up to you to lead your people through the darkness,” he said. “Ready yourself for the task.”

Argon turned to go, and Gwen reached out and grabbed his shoulder.

“Wait!” she called out.

But she felt a burning in her hand and quickly yanked it back, the energy coming off of him so intense she could not tolerate it.

“Please! Before you go, tell me one thing.”

He turned and stared at her.

“The answer is yes,” he said, before she opened her mouth. “You carry Thor’s child. And it will change your life.”

Before she could ask him more, suddenly, he disappeared.

She turned, looking everywhere for him, but saw nothing, save for a single bird, screeching high up in the air, flying farther and farther away.

Gwen turned and looked out into nothingness, over the great expense of the Ring, and she wondered. She reached up and felt her stomach.

Thor’s child.

It was real.