A Rite of Swords

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

Kendrick felt a renewed sense of optimism as he rode beside Bronson and Erec. Ever since Bronson’s arrival, they had wiped out the Empire division. Together, they had all crossed the valley, their thousands of men merging seamlessly with one another. The size of their forces had doubled, thanks to Bronson, and momentum was finally on their side.

Kendrick knew that they owed Bronson a great debt. Bronson would have a friend in him for life now, and if they all ever survived this, Kendrick would make sure Bronson was given a position of honor and power. He marveled at how wrong they had all been about him. He should have known all along that it was his sister, Luanda, who had duped him. She had always been that way: conniving, power-hungry, and willing to stop at nothing until she had her way. Much, in a way, like Gareth.

With their newfound momentum, Kendrick felt they had a renewed chance to burst through enemy lines, rescue Thorgrin, and get him out. They had weakened the Empire army, or at least a sliver of it, a sliver wide enough to allow them to achieve their goal. Their plan was working. Now, before the Empire could regroup, all they needed was to press through the crack in the men they had created.

Kendrick recalled the olden days, when King MacGil had been alive; when the Silver had been all together, there was nothing in the world that could stop them. He felt something like the olden days returning once again, and felt that they were on the verge of achieving one of the greatest conquests of their lives, one that would be sung of for generations.

The valley narrowed, leading them on a path between two steep cliffs, and as they rounded a bend, a new vista opened up before them—and Kendrick’s heart fell.

Blocking off their path in the narrow valley, facing them in combat, waiting to ambush them, were tens of thousands of men. More Empire soldiers than he had ever seen. These were led by thousands more. Men he recognized at once from their armor, from their banners.

Tirus’ men.

At first, Kendrick was confused. Why would Tirus’ men be joined with the Empire’s, one unified force facing him? Then he realized: they had been sold out by Tirus.

As all of his men came to a sudden stop, Kendrick sat there on his horse, dumbfounded, hardly able to breathe. Tirus sat there, grinning back with a huge look of satisfaction. The battlefield was thick with a tense silence of anticipation.

Kendrick finally cleared his throat and called out to Tirus across the battlefield:

“You have betrayed the better half of the MacGils,” Kendrick called out to him.

“Whoever said you were the better half?” Tirus answered.

“Why have you betrayed us?” Erec asked.

“You MacGils have always been fools,” Tirus called back. “You take men for their word. You still believe in chivalry. And that is your great downfall. I believe in gold. It hasn’t failed me yet.”

“We were gracious to you,” Ere called out. “Gwendolyn offered you control of the Northern half of the Ring.”

Tirus beamed widely.

“But Luanda offered us the entire Western Kingdom of the Ring. Her sister, it seems, is the smarter of the two.”

“Does your word mean nothing, then?” Kendrick called out.

Tirus smiled back.

“It does,” he answered. “But not nearly as much as gold.”