The Sorcerer's Ring: Book 05 - A Vow of Glory (23 page)

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They
all paddled on the still waters of a vast lake, and Thor wondered if this would
ever end. They had all been paddling for hours, and finally settled into a
comfortable silence, paddling in unison as this new body of water seemed to
stretch forever. It felt like an ocean, with no land in sight, yet its waters were
completely still, with no breeze to be had.

Thor
was still trying to process seeing his three “brothers” again, their new kindness
to him, and what this could mean for their mission. If their map was accurate
and not the dream of some desperate thief, then their appearance could be a
godsend, exactly what they needed to find the Sword and bring it back. But the
words of the slave girl rang in his head, and he could not help wondering, with
every stroke, if they were going the wrong way, if his brothers were being
played by this thief and his map.

"Where
are you from?" Elden asked the girl softly, seated beside her. Thor was
but a few inches away, and could not help but hear, despite Elden’s speaking
softly. Elden had been trying to engage her for quite some time, and she had
seemed aloof. Thor could see that Elden had taken a real liking to her. It was
the first time he had seen Elden this way.

"From
a place you've never heard of," she answered, “and a place you’d never
want to go. It’s just another slave town on the periphery of the Empire. They
rounded us up to Slave City about a year ago. Not all of us. Just me. My family,
they killed on the spot.”

Elden
shook his head.

"You
are a slave no more. Now you are free.”

She
shrugged.

"What
does being free really mean? The entire Empire are slaves to the Empire. Show
me a place that is truly free.”

"The
Ring is truly free," Elden insisted.

She
grunted.

"And
for how long?" she countered. "Soon you will be overrun, like us, and
you will answer to the Great Andronicus. Just like all of us.”

"Never!"
snapped Elden. "You don't know me. You can’t say that.”

She
shrugged.

"I
know Andronicus. Nothing can stop him. Nothing. Not even your Ring, with its
Canyon, and its missing Sword. You live in fantasy. I am a realist.”

"You
are a cynic," Elden corrected. “You clearly lost your ideals long ago. I
myself have not. I will never become a slave. I will never answer to
Andronicus. And my people will never go down. If they do, I will go down
fighting with them.”

She
shrugged, unimpressed.

"Then
you will go down,” she said. “As I said, like everyone else, you will succumb
to Andronicus—one way or another."

The
boat fell into a gloomy silence as they continued to paddle, deeper and deeper
into the unknown, the only sound that of the lapping water.

The second
sun climbed to its peak, burning hot, reflecting off of everything. The lake
was like a huge mirror, shining white, light bouncing off of everything. It was
like paddling into heaven.

Just
as Thor was beginning to wonder, once again, if they were heading in the right
direction, suddenly, a soft sound began to rise on the horizon. It was so soft,
at first Thor wondered if he were imagining it. It sounded like a song, like a
distant, soft song in a woman's voice, rising and falling. It sounded like a
chorus of women. It was the sweetest and softest sound Thor had ever heard,
echoing off the water. He wondered if he were dreaming.

From
the looks on the faces of the others, who suddenly stopped paddling and looked
in that direction, Thor knew he was not alone in hearing it.

"The
song of the Sentions," Indra said, with fear. "You must turn the boat
around!”

"What
do you mean?" Thor asked, alarmed.

Indra
looked frantic, looking every which way, as if trying to get off the boat.

"That
island,” she said, “it is an island of seductresses! The music is meant to draw
passersby in. Music that men cannot resist. Once they arrive, they are killed
and eaten. You must turn around at once!”

"You
don't know what you're talking about," said Dross. "We are following
the trail to the Sword.”

But
Thor was beginning to feel a strange feeling pass over him, a tingling throughout
his body—a lust. The more he heard that music, the closer they came, the more this
feeling intensified, the more he needed to hear it. He had never experienced
anything like it—it was as if his body had been taken over by a life-or-death
desire to hear their song. He would have killed anyone or anything that got in
his way.

His
fellow passengers—except for Indra—clearly all felt the same, turning towards
it, hypnotized, paddling hard as a sudden current picked up and pulled them in
one direction towards the music.

A
small island began to come into view, in the center of which sat a round, low
building, made of a shining white marble. On the shores of the island stood a
group of women, wearing white flowing robes, with long brown hair spilling down
to their lower backs, each leaning back, palms out, and singing. The chorus of
voices grew louder, the tide stronger, and before he knew it, Thor and the
others were at the edge of the island.

Thor's
heart was pounding with a desire to be with these women; he could think of
nothing else. He could not even think of Gwendolyn. It was as if his mind had
been taken.

"Turn
around!" Indra yelled, frantic.

But nothing
could stop them now. The current grew even stronger, racing them towards the
island, and in moments their boat was lodged firmly on the sand, several women
waiting to pull it ashore. They reached out with their long, delicate hands and
each grabbed a piece of the boat and pulled them up.

Thor
was electrified by the feel of a woman's touch as she grabbed his, smiling and
singing the whole time as she guided him off the boat onto the sand. He let her
guide him, unable to resist, up a set of endless marble steps to their island. Beside
him, Krohn snarled and whined, and Indra shouted. But Thor could barely hear
them, all sounds but the song muted, fading. He walked with all of his legion
brothers, all of them allowing themselves to be lead.

Each
of the boys was led by a woman who took his hand, smiling sweetly, singing, leading
them deeper and deeper into the island. As they went, Thor saw that the island
was covered in the most beautiful fruit trees he had ever seen, orange and red
and yellow fruits hanging low, branches flowering, flooding the place with
delicate aromas. There also came the smell of distant cooking, making Thor’s
stomach growl.

Thor
heard Indra screaming, then heard her being gagged and muffled; he turned and
watched the women pounce on her, binding her hands behind her back and carrying
her off. Some part of Thor wanted to help her, to stop all of this. But a
bigger part of him was under a spell, so deep that he would have walked off the
edge of the world if these women had led him there.

At
last, he had found his true home. And he never wanted to leave.

Gwendolyn
stood on the upper ramparts of the castle, Steffen by her side, watching for
Kendrick, looking for any sign of him on the horizon. All around her, her men
were busy preparing the final defenses, a group beside her groaning as they
pushed yet another iron cauldron filled with boiling tar into place. Archers
took up positions, hundreds of them, kneeling all about the walls, bows and
arrows at the ready. Beside them sat dozens of attendants, young boys holding
torches ready to be lit.

On the
lower ramparts, hundreds more men took up positions with long spears; amidst
these were dozens more with slings.

Down
below, in the inner court, amassing behind the gates, were hundreds more
soldiers, bearing swords and shields and every weapon imaginable. Her army grew
with each passing moment, and Silesia was beginning to feel impenetrable. Gwen
was feeling optimistic.

But
she looked out again over the horizon, and reminded herself of what was coming.
She had heard stories of Andronicus her entire life, and she knew that while Silesia
had lasted a thousand years, this time would be different. She closed her eyes
and prayed that she be given the strength to at least put up a noble defense.
Whatever should come, whether they should all live or die, she just wanted to
go down with honor.

Gwen
opened her eyes and looked back at the horizon, and began to pace again. She
was a nervous wreck, and having Kendrick out there didn’t help. She could not
imagine having to shut the gates on her brother. It was too painful to even
contemplate.

"Watching
the horizon won't make him come any faster," Steffen said, standing beside
her.

She
looked over, grateful, as always, for Steffen's presence. He had become her
backbone throughout all of this, always at her side, always looking out for
her, always there to offer a good word of advice or comfort. He was wise beyond
his appearance, and she was viewing him more and more as a sounding board. He
was also the one she could trust most, who had saved her life already twice;
she was growing comfortable sharing with him even her most private thoughts.

"I
don't think I could do it,” she said to him, quietly. “Seal the gates with
Kendrick out there.”

"You
will have to," he said. "That is what it means to be Queen. To put
country before family. Your brother is but one; your people are thousands."

As she
continued to pace, Gwendolyn knew that he was right. She just prayed she would
not have to be put in that position.

A trumpet
sounded, and Gwen spun, staring back down at the road, wondering whose approach
they were heralding. Her heart beat faster as she hoped to see Kendrick riding
towards the place.

But
her heart fell as she saw a small caravan and realized it was not him. It was a
horse and carriage, coming from the road from King's Court. She was surprised:
someone had made it out of there alive.

She was
anxious to have the news. She took off down the twisting stone staircase until
she reached the dusty inner court of Silesia. Steffen cleared a path for her
between the soldiers, and she hurried down the middle as the inner gate was
slowly opened.

The
carriage came up to the entrance and pulled to a stop.

Several
soldiers approached and opened the door, and Gwendolyn was shocked as she saw
who came out.

There,
standing before her, was a woman she was sure she would never see again.

Her
mother. The former Queen.

And beside
her, her devoted servant, Hafold.

Gwendolyn’s
mother stared back at her, one queen to another, and Gwendolyn felt torn with a
myriad of emotions. She went from being shocked to see her, to relief that she
was alive, to sadness and compassion for her state of health, to anger from all
the old memories. She also felt a sudden defiance: if her mother had arrived
here to try to tell her how to rule, she would hear none of it.

Most
of all, she was bewildered. How was her mother, who was so sick, standing? And
how had she escaped from King’s Court?

"Mother,"
Gwendolyn said.

Her
mother stared back, expressionless.

"Gwendolyn,"
she said, matter of factly. "I find myself in the odd and unfortunate
position of having to ask my daughter to allow me into her court. Since the
destruction of King’s Court, of the one place I called home, I find myself
homeless. A great army follows on my tail, and if you shut me out from your gates,
I will die out there. However you may feel about me, surely that would not be a
way to honor your father.”

The
crowd of soldiers around them grew quiet, and Gwendolyn felt them all watching
the exchange between them. She took a deep breath, swirling with mixed
emotions.

"I
am not vindictive, mother,” Gwendolyn said. “Unlike you. I would never throw
you to the mercy of the Empire, regardless of the sort of mother you have been.
Of course, you shall be welcome within our gates."

Her
mother stared back, still expressionless, and gave her the slightest nod.

"How
did you recover?" Gwendolyn asked. "Last I saw you, you were unable
to speak, or to move.”

"I
discovered she had been the victim of poisoning," Hafold said. "By
her son, the King.”

A gasp
spread through the crowd, most of all from Gwendolyn. Despite the depth of Gareth’s
treachery, she had never imagined this. She shook her head involuntarily.

"Then
we shall put you into the hands of Illepra, our healer who is here with us, and
she will give you whatever help you need for a permanent recovery. I welcome
you here, mother.”

Her
mother nodded, but stood where she was.

"I
hear you are queen now," her mother said.

Gwendolyn
nodded back, guarded, unsure where she was going with this.

"It
is what your father wanted. I fought it. But now, finally, I see that it was a
wise decision. Perhaps his
only
wise
decision.”