A March of Kings (9 page)

McCloud glowered, reddening. No one ever spoke to him this way.

“Is that a threat?” McCloud asked. He wanted to sound confident, but despite himself, he found his voice shaking.

A deep, throaty sound rippled through Andronicus’ chest, then up through his throat. At first McCloud thought it was a cough—but then he realized it was a laugh.

“I never threaten,” he said down to McCloud. “You will come to learn that about me very, very well.”

CHAPTER TEN

Thor walked with his head down, downcast, kicking pebbles on the road. Krohn walked at his side and Ephistopheles circled somewhere high above, as he made his way slowly to the Legion barracks. Since the funeral, his encounter with Gwen, he felt deflated. The pain of watching MacGil being lowered into the earth took something out of him—as if a part of him sank into the earth with him. The king had taken him under his wing, had shown him kindness, had given him Ephistopheles, had been the only father figure he’d ever had. He felt as if he owed him something, that it had been his responsibility to save him, and somehow, he had failed. As the bells had tolled, Thor felt as if they tolled the announcement of his failure.

Then there was his encounter with Gwen. She hated him now, that much was obvious. Nothing he could say would change her mind. Even worse, her true thoughts came out today: she felt he was beneath her. A commoner. It seemed Alton had been right all the while. The thought of it crushed him. First he had lost the king; then he had lost the girl he had grown to love.

As he walked back towards the Legion, he realized it was the one thing left that he could cling to here. He cared not for his village, or his father, or his brothers. Without the Legion and Reese—and Krohn—he did not know what he would have left.

Krohn yelped and Thor looked up and saw the barracks before him. The king’s banner flew at half mast, and he could already see dozens of boys sulking, and could tell the mood was somber. It was a day of mourning here. The king, their leader, had been murdered, and worse, no one knew who did it, or why. There also seemed to be an air of expectancy. Would the armies be disbanded? The Legion with it?

Thor saw the wary looks of the boys as he walked through the large, arched stone gate. They were stopping and staring at him. He wondered what they thought of him. Just the night before he’d been thrown into the dungeon, and Thor was sure that the rumor had spread that he had something to do with poisoning the king. Did these boys know that he was vindicated? Did they still suspect him? Or did they think he was a hero for trying to save him?

From their looks, he could not tell. But he did know that the tension in the air was thick, and he could tell that he clearly had been a subject of conversation.

As Thor entered the large wooden structure of the barracks, he noticed dozens of boys stuffing their clothes and various objects into canvas sacks. It looked, oddly, as if the Legion were packing up. Was it disbanding? he wondered, in a sudden panic.

“There you are,” came a voice he recognized.

He turned to see O’Connor standing there, smiling in his typical good-natured way, his bright red hair and freckles framing his face. He reached out and clasped Thor’s forearm.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in days. Are you okay? I heard you were thrown in the clink. What happened?”

“Hey look, it’s Thor!” yelled a voice.

Thor turned to see Elden hurrying towards him, a good-natured smile on his face, embracing him. Thor was still amazed at Elden’s attitude towards him, ever since he had saved his life across the Canyon, especially when he recalled the hostile greeting Elden had once given him.

Coming up beside him were the twins, Conval and Conven.

“Glad to have you back,” Conven said, embracing Thor in a hug.

“And I,” Conval echoed.

Thor was relieved to see them all, especially as he realized that they did not assume he had anything to do with the murder.

“It’s true,” Thor responded, looking at O’Connor, not sure which question to answer first. “I was thrown into the dungeon. At first they thought I had something to do with the king’s poisoning. But after he was killed, they realized I had nothing to do with it.”

“So they let you free?” O’Connor asked.

Thor thought about that, not quite sure how to respond.

“Not exactly. I escaped.”

They all looked at him, wide-eyed.

“Escaped?” Elden asked.

“Once I was out, Reese helped me. He brought me to the king.”

“You saw the king before he died?” Conval asked, shocked.

Thor nodded back.

“He knows I am innocent.”

“What else did he say?” O’Connor asked.

Thor hesitated. He felt funny telling them about what the king said about his destiny, about being special. He didn’t want to seem like he was boasting, or seem delusional, or cause envy. So he decided to omit that part and just tell them how it ended.

Thor looked him in the eye. “He said: avenge me.”

The others looked at the floor, grim.

“Do you have any idea who did it?” O’Connor asked.

Thor shook his head.

“As much as you do.”

“I would love to catch him,” Conven said.

“As would I,” Elden added.

“But I don’t understand,” Thor said, looking around, “what is all this packing? It seems as if everyone is getting to leave.”

“We are,” O’Connor said. “Including you.”

O’Connor reached over, grabbed a canvas sack, and threw it at Thor. It hit Thor hard in the chest, and he grabbed it before it hit the ground.

“What do you mean?” Thor asked, puzzled.

“The Hundred starts tomorrow,” Elden answered. “We are all preparing.”

“The Hundred?” Thor asked.

“Do you know nothing?” Conval asked.

“It seems we have to teach this young one everything,” Conven added.

Conven stepped forward and draped an arm across Thor’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, my friend. There’s always much to learn in the Legion. The Hundred is the Legion’s way of making us all hardened warriors—and weeding us out. It is a rite of passage. Every year, at summertime, they send us for a hundred days of the most grueling training you’ll ever know. Some of us will return. Those who do are granted honors, weapons, and a permanent place in the Legion.”

Thor looked around, still puzzled. “But why are you packing?”

“Because the Hundred is not here,” Elden explained. “They ship us off. Literally. Far from here. We must journey across the Canyon, into the Wilds, across the Tartuvian Sea, and all the way to the Isle of Mist. It is a hundred days of hell. We all dread it. But we must go through it, if we are to stay in the Legion. Our ship sails tomorrow, so pack quickly.”

Thor looked down at the sack in his hand, unbelieving. He could hardly imagine packing up what few things he had, crossing the Canyon into the Wilds, boarding a ship, and spending a hundred days on an island with all the Legion members. The thought of it excited him; it also terrified him. He’d never been on a ship, had never been across the sea. He loved the idea of advancing his skills, and he hoped he would make it and not be weeded out.

“Before you pack, you should report to your knight,” Conven said. “You are squire to Kendrick now that Erec is gone, aren’t you?”

Thor nodded back. “Yes, is he here?”

“He was outside with some of the other Knights,” he answered. “He was preparing his horse, and I know he was looking for you.”

As Thor stood there, his mind reeling, the thought of the Hundred excited him more than he could say. He wanted to be tested, to be pushed to the extreme, to see if he was as good as the others. And if he made it back—and he felt sure he would—he would return a stronger warrior.

“Are you sure that I’m included, that I’m allowed to come, too?” Thor asked.

“Of course you are,” O’Connor said. “Assuming, of course, your knight doesn’t need you here. You need his permission.”

“Ask him,” Elden said, “and be quick of it. There is much to do to prepare, and you’re already far behind. The ships will not wait. And whoever does not go, cannot stay in the Legion.”

“Try the armory,” O’Connor said. “I saw Kendrick there just an hour ago.”

Thor needed no prodding. He turned and ran from the barracks, out the door and across the fields, heading for the armory, Krohn yelping and running at his heels.

In moments he reached it, breathing hard, and there was Kendrick. He stood there alone, inside the armory, looking up at a wall of halberds. He looked pensive, intense, lost in thought. Thor felt as if he had intruded on private time, and felt guilty for interrupting.

Kendrick turned, and his eyes were red from crying. Thor thought of his father’s funeral, remembered Kendrick lowering him into the ground, and felt terrible.

“Forgive me, sire,” Thor said, catching his breath. He could see Kendrick’s grief and felt bad for intruding. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you. I will leave.”

As Thor turned to leave, his voice rang out.

“No. Stay. I would like to speak with you.”

Thor turned back and waited, quiet, feeling Kendrick’s pain. Kendrick waited a long time in the silence, examining the weaponry.

“My father, he loved you very much,” Kendrick said. “He barely knew you, but I could see his love for you. It was real.”

“Thank you, sire. I loved your father, too.”

“The people in this kingdom, and in the royal court, they have never considered me to be his true son. Just because I was the son of another mother.”

Kendrick turned to Thor, a determination in his eyes.

“But I
am
his son. As much as any of the others. He was a father to me. My only father. My father by blood. Just because we don’t share the same mother, that doesn’t make me any less,” Kendrick reflected, reaching out and feeling the tip of a blade mounted on the wall, his eyes misty.

“I didn’t know him long,” Thor said, “but from what I saw, I could see his love for you, and his approval for you. It seemed to me to be as real and as strong as it was for any of the others.”

Kendrick nodded, and Thor could see the appreciation in his eyes.

“He was a good man. He could be a hard man, and a tough man. But he was a good man, always fair. Our kingdom will not be the same without him.”

“I wish you could be king,” Thor said. “You would be the best one to rule.”

Kendrick looked at the blade.

“Our kingdom has its law. And I must abide by it. I feel no envy for my brother, Gareth. The law dictates that he should rule, and he will. I do feel upset for my sister, who was passed over. That was not my father’s wish. But for myself, I feel no regret. I don’t know if Gareth will be a good King. But that is the law, and the law is not always fair. It is uncompromising: that is its nature.”

Kendrick turned to Thor and examined him.

“And why have you come here?” he asked.

“Since Erec has left, I am told that I have been assigned to be your squire now. It is a great honor, sire. I can think of no finer knight.”

“Ah, Erec,” Kendrick said, looking off, glassy-eyed. “The finest knight we have. He’s off for his Selection year, is he? Yes, I am pleased to have you as my squire, though I’m sure it will not last long. He’ll be back. He can never leave King’s Court for long.”

Kendrick’s expression suddenly morphed to one of understanding.

“So then you are coming to me to ask for permission to leave for The Hundred, are you?” he asked.

“Yes, sire. If that is okay with you. If it is not, I understand, and I am here to serve your needs.”

Kendrick shook his head.

“Every young Legion member must go through The Hundred. It is a rite of passage. Selfishly, I would like you here, but I will not hold you back. Go. You’ll come back a stronger warrior and a far better squire.”

Thor was overwhelmed with gratitude towards Kendrick. He was about to ask him more about what lay in store with The Hundred when suddenly, the door to the armory burst open.

Thor and Kendrick turned to see Alton standing there, dressed in his royal finest, flanked by two guards of the royal court.

“There he is!” Alton screamed, pointing a haughty finger at Thor. “He’s the one who struck me at the feast last night! A commoner, can you imagine? He struck a member of the royal family. He has violated our law. Arrest him!”

The two guards began to walk towards Thor, when Kendrick stepped forward and extracted his sword from his scabbard. The sound of the metal resonated in the armory, and as Kendrick stood there, fierce, holding his sword drawn before him, the two guards stopped in their tracks.

“Come any closer and you will pay the price,” Kendrick threatened.

Thor could hear in his voice something deep and dark, a tone he had never heard before; the guards must have sensed it, too, because they dared not move.

“
I
am a member of the royal family,” Kendrick corrected. “An
immediate
member. You, Alton, are not. You are son to a third cousin to the king. You guards will answer to me before you do to this pretender. And Thor is my squire. He is not to be touched. Not now or ever.”

“But he broke the law!” Alton whined, bunching his fists like a baby. “A commoner cannot strike royalty!”

Kendrick smiled.

“In this case, I am very glad he did. In fact if I were there, I would have struck you myself. Whatever it is that you did, I’m sure you deserved it—and a lot more.”

Alton scowled, turning red.

“I suggest you guards leave now. Or if you prefer, come closer, and pay the price. I’m itching to use my sword, actually.”

The two guards gave each other a wary look, them both turned, re-sheathed their swords, and strutted out the armory. Only Alton was left there, standing alone, watching in frustration as the guards left.

“I would suggest you follow them quickly, before I find a good use for this blade in my hands.”

Kendrick took a step forward, and Alton suddenly turned and ran out the door.

Kendrick, smiling, re-sheathed his sword and turned to Thor.

Thor was overwhelmed with gratitude, and he felt indebted to Kendrick, once again.