A Rite of Swords

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

Thorgrin rode on the back of Mycoples, lifting off from the top peak of the Highlands and finally flying again, diving down, heading east for Andronicus’ camp. The second sun now sat low in the sky, as it had taken all day for Thor to convince Mycoples to stir, rise up, and fly again.

Mycoples flew reluctantly, flying in giant circles, getting a little closer, then circling back, farther away, screeching as she went. Thor could not understand her behavior. He had never seen her like this. He could feel her deep ambivalence to go forward, and he could not help but feel a sense of foreboding. Was she seeing some future he failed to see?

Thor looked below, and against the dramatic sunset sweeping over the Ring, casting a reddish pall over everything, he saw the endless soldiers of Andronicus’ camp. As he managed to get Mycoples to fly ever closer to the center, he spotted what could only be Andronicus’ tent, ten times the size of the others, with a wide clearing around it. They flew above it, circling low.

As they did, Thor could see the fear on all the faces of the Empire soldiers, looking up at the sky, watching him. They were right to be afraid: if Thor chose, he could dive down and have Mycoples burn them all alive, as she had their comrades. He could kill them all in one clean sweep, including his father. There was nothing he wanted more.

But he was obliged by duty, and he vowed to carry out orders and accept Andronicus’ surrender.

As Thor circled, the clearing grew wider, Andronicus’ men creating space for him and for Mycoples. Mycoples bucked and screamed as they neared the ground, lifting her head as if refusing to land. Thor looked at her, puzzled. He could feel her wanting to breathe fire, and it took all his will to get her to refrain.

“Do not be afraid, Mycoples,” he said.

I fear not for myself, but for you, Thor could hear her thoughts.

“Do not fear for me,” Thor said. “You are by my side, and the Destiny Sword lies in my hand. No one and nothing can harm us.”

Mycoples grudgingly lowered her great talons down to the ground.

They set down in the midst of the hostile and foreign camp, and there came a dead silence. Not a soul stirred, all the Empire soldiers frozen in fear, as Mycoples landed on the dusty ground, and Thor dismounted before Andronicus’ tent. All the Empire soldiers, faces etched in fear, kept a healthy distance.

Thor stood there, clutching the Sword, the tension thick in the air, and he looked all around, his heart pounding in anticipation. He was nervous to lay eyes upon his father, to speak to him for the first time. Mycoples, beside him, let out a noise, like a snarl or a growl, from deep within her throat. Clearly, she was very unhappy here; Thor could feel how on edge she was. Thor felt it himself. Something felt off to him.

Finally, there came a stir, and as Thor watched, the flap opened, and out came a figure.

His father.

Thor’s heart pounded as he stood there, facing him. His whole world froze.

Andronicus walked out slowly and stepped towards him. Thor was taken aback by his father’s height and breadth and size. He was a huge man, looked to be eight feet tall, as broad as a tree trunk, with muscles rippling on his red skin, long fangs, and curled yellow horns coming from his bald heads, glowing yellow eyes, and wearing a necklace that, Thor was horrified to see, was laced with shrunken heads.

Andronicus reached up and fingered the heads with his long talons, smiling back at Thor as he stopped but a few feet away from him. A deep purring noise came from deep within his chest.

Thor felt revolted at the sight of him. He felt ashamed. And he felt hatred. Looking at him, knowing what he had done to Gwendolyn, Thor felt, most of all, a burning desire for vengeance. Thor felt the Destiny Sword throbbing in his palm, and if his honor had not bound him, he would have lunged forward and killed him now.

But he could not. He had agreed to accept a surrender, and he had to honor his word.

“My son,” Andronicus said. “Finally, we meet.”

Thor did not know how to respond. He hated hearing the word “son” from this man. Thor felt nothing like a son to him; on the contrary, he was supremely disappointed in him, in having to meet his father for the first time, and to have him be a father such as this. He wanted more than anything to change it, to change who he came from, but he knew he could not.

“I’ve come to accept your surrender,” Thor said formally, coldly. “Frankly, I would rather kill you. But that is not what my people agreed to. So you can dispense with the trivialities and command your men to exit the Ring, and kneel and announce your surrender. I don’t want to speak to you a second longer than I have to.”

As he spoke the words, Thor felt a newfound sense of confidence.

But Andronicus did not step forward or command his men, or kneel, or any such thing. Instead, he just stood there, his smile broadening. Thor sensed something was off.

“My son, you are in such a rush. We have all day for such formalities. Let us have a chance to get to know one another.”

Thor felt a pit in his stomach at the thought.

“There is nothing I wish for less,” Thor said. “I do not wish to know you. You are a murderer—and worse. Your time for speaking is through.”

But Andronicus merely smiled and took a step forward.

“But our time for speaking has not yet even begun,” Andronicus said, seeming amused. “You see, we will have a lifetime together. As much as you may wish to fight it, you are my son. Whose blood do you think you carry within you? It is mine. Who do you think you have to thank for being alive in this world? Me. You may fool yourself to think otherwise, but you know it’s the truth. You and I are exactly the same. You might not know it yet, but you are just like me.”

Thor’s face reddened.

“I am nothing like you,” Thor insisted. “And I will never be like you. You are a despicable excuse for a living thing. I regret the day I learned I hailed from you.”

“It is a great honor to descend from me,” Andronicus countered. “There is no man in the Empire more powerful than I, and one day, you will take my place.”

Thor tightened his grip on the Destiny Sword.

“I will never take your place,” Thor said, his anger rising, it getting harder to control himself. “I want nothing to do with you, and I’m through speaking with you. You can surrender yourself now to me, or if you refuse, then I shall kill you once and for all.”

Thor was surprised to find Andronicus still unfazed, still standing there and grinning. He took another step closer to Thor, now but a few feet away.

“I am afraid you will have to kill me, then,” Andronicus said.

Thor hardly knew what was happening.

“You withdraw your offer of surrender then?” Thor asked.

“I never intended to surrender,” Andronicus smiled. “I did all of this to have a chance to see you. You are my son. I knew you would not let me down. I knew that once you were in front of me, you would see that you and I are the same. Join me, Thorgrin,” Andronicus said, holding out a hand. “Come with me, and I can give you powers beyond what you ever dreamed. You will rule entire worlds. The Ring will be but a speck in the lands you will own, the peoples you control. You will have powers beyond what a simple human father could have given you. Join me. Stop resisting it. It is your destiny.”

But Thor’s eyes narrowed, as his rage began to overwhelm him. Had been duped by this man. They had all been duped.

“Take one step closer, and I will strike you down,” Thor warned.

“You will not do so, Thorgrin,” Andronicus said, staring into his eyes, as if hypnotizing him. “Because I am your father. Because you love me. Because you and I are one.”

“I hate you!” Thor screamed.

Andronicus stepped forward, and Thor could restrain himself no more. He thought of Gwendolyn, of the damage done to her by this monster’s hand, of all the people Andronicus had killed in the Ring, and he could hold back his rage no longer.

Thor lunged forward, raised the Destiny Sword high, let out a scream, and plunged it down with all his might, right for his father’s chest, determined to show his father, to show himself, that he was nothing like him.

But Thor found himself stumbling forward, through thin air, his sword plunging through nothing but a cloud. His momentum carried him, and as his sword came down it found a target instead in a boulder. There was such strength to the blow that the Destiny Sword came down and lodged itself into the boulder, and kept sinking in until it was halfway through, filling the air with the awful noise of metal cutting through rock.

At the same time, Thor suddenly felt his entire body entangled in a light metal. He soon realized he was ensnared in a net. He tried to break free, but it was made of a material he’d never encountered, and he found himself unable.

Thor looked back to see Andronicus standing far away, a good thirty feet. He was confused. He turned and looked to where Andronicus had been and in his place, instead, was an evil creature, with a long scarlet cloak, and glowing yellow eyes.

Thor realized he had been tricked by some sort of spell of illusion. He had thought it had been his father in front of him, when all along it had really been this dark sorcerer.

The more Thor struggled against the net, the weaker he became. It was made of a material he had never seen before, a glowing, amber mesh, and whatever it was, it was draining the life out of him. He could not even manage to lift the Destiny Sword.

The sorcerer laughed at him, an awful, grating sound.

“That net is made of Akdon,” the sorcerer said. “The more you struggle, the weaker you will become. It is the rarest metal on earth, a sorcerer’s metal, forged in the lowest fires of hell. Not much of it exists—but enough to stop the likes of you. And your dragon.”

Thor heard a roar, and he looked over to see Mycoples ensnared in a net of the same material. Dozens of Andronicus’ men held the net, holding her down as she shrieked violently and tried to flap. But try as she did, her wings were constrained by the material.

Thor heard a noise and looked up to see Andronicus—the real Andronicus—standing over him, grinning down. He watched as Andronicus raised a fist high and brought it down, right for his face, and felt the impact of his knuckle on the bone of his cheek, snapping his head back. Thor found himself lying face first on the hard ground, and before he his world went black, he heard his father’s final words:

“I told you you would join me, my son.”