The Gift of Battle

by Morgan Rice

  Kendrick stood between the doors, but they were closing on him, and for a moment it looked as if he would be crushed.

  Suddenly, Krohn snarled and raced forward, leaping through the air and pouncing on Mardig, forcing him to loosen his grip.

  Kendrick’s brothers then stepped forward and helped, all prying back the doors.

  Koldo reached in, grabbed Mardig by the shirt, and yanked him out, sending him tumbling to the ground. He lay there, hands up, shaking.

  “Don’t kill me!” he yelled out, his voice cracking.

  Koldo sneered down.

  “You don’t deserve death,” he replied. “You deserve worse.”

  “You betrayed us,” Ludvig said, shock in his voice. “Your brothers.”

  Mardig sneered back.

  “You were never my brothers. We hail from the same father—that is all. That does not make you my brother.”

  “He killed the King,” Gwen said, stepping forward.

  A gasp spread through the crowd.

  She looked down at him.

  “Tell them,” she said down to him. “Tell them what you’ve done.”

  Mardig sneered back.

  “What does one more death matter now?” he asked.

  Koldo sneered and stepped forward and placed his boot on Mardig’s chest, looking down at him with disgust.

  “Death would be too good for you,” he seethed. “You wanted power, wanted this castle, and you should have it. You shall stay here in this castle, while all of us leave, while the Empire invades. It shall be yours—all yours. They shall decide what to do with you,” he grinned. “I am sure they will have many ideas.”

  Several soldiers stepped forward and pulled Mardig to his feet, shackling him to a stone wall. He was made to stand there and watch as the steel doors opened wider, revealing a stone staircase, and women and children, grabbing torches, filtered down, deeper and deeper.

  “NO!” Mardig cried out. “You can’t leave me here! Please!”

  But all ignored him as they continued filtering into the tunnel.

  Gwen waited until the last of them entered, Kendrick, Steffen, Illepra and her baby and the others beside her, and she paused and turned and looked out one last time at the castle. The noise was deafening now, the Empire breaking through. They were at their gates, and soon, Gwen knew, all would be destroyed.

  She shared a look with the others, the last remaining few, they all nodded solemnly to one another, then they all entered through the steel doors just before it slammed and locked behind them. And the last thing she heard, before being sealed in for good, was Mardig’s screams, echoing throughout the empty castle.

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  Thorgrin walked slowly up the skywalk, the mist evaporating all around him as the sun broke through, its rays streaking down, a shaft of light illuminating him as he went—and he looked out in awe at the castle ahead of him. Its door and windows were burning with light, and before it, at its doorstep, lay the Sorcerer’s Ring.

  After having completed the circle, Thor felt like a changed man. For the first time in his life, he no longer felt a need for a weapon, realizing the power that lay within him was far greater than that. He held within him the power to create reality—and the power to refuse the reality he saw. He had the power to realize that everything and everyone he saw before him—all friends, all enemies, all brothers, and all foes—were creations of his own mind. It was deep within his mind, he knew, that the most powerful lands lay.

  As he walked on the skywalk, he knew it was real—and yet he also knew that this land lay within his own mind. The walls between what was real and what was in his mind were blurring—and for the first time, he was realizing how thin those walls were. They were two sides of the same coin, each inextricable from one another. And with every step he took, he was walking deeper into his own mind, he knew, like a waking dream.

  As he reached the end of the walkway and looked up, he saw his mother standing there, arms outstretched, smiling, and he felt as if he were home. He knew he had completed a sacred journey, that he was ready for the next and final level. He realized now that his first trip to the Land of the Druids was just an introduction, not a completion; he had left something unfinished. This time, though, it was a final return. The return of a victorious warrior. A warrior who had mastered himself.

  Thor stopped before the castle as he finished crossing the skywalk and stood on the stone platform, just feet away from her, from the ring that lay at her feet, and he stopped and stared. The light shining off of her was intense, and he could feel her love and approval pouring through.

  “Thorgrin, my child,” she said, her voice immediately setting him at ease. “You have passed every test. You have gained for yourself what I could not give you.”

  She held out her arms and he stepped forward and embraced her, and she embraced him back. He felt the power of the world coursing through him, and as he stood back and looked up at her, she smiled down.

  “When I first saw you, I so badly wanted to warn you of all the dangers and tribulations that lay ahead of you,” she said. “The losses you would suffer, the victories you would achieve. But I could not. It was for you to learn, and you to discover.”

  She took a deep breath

  “I have watched you achieve splendor. You are a true warrior. Do you understand now the secret?” she asked. “Do you understand the essence of power?”

  Thor thought it through carefully, sensing the answer to the riddle.

  “The essence of power lies within ourselves,” he replied.

  She nodded back approvingly.

  “It does not lie in weapons,” he continued. “Weapons require someone else to craft them—and true power comes from within. True power requires we lean on no one else.”

  She smiled down, her eyes shining, and nodded.

  “You have learned more than I could ever teach you,” she responded. “Now, my son, you are ready. Now, you are a master. Now, you are King of the Druids.”

  She raised a long, thin, golden sword from her side and raised it high, shining in the sun.

  “Kneel,” she commanded.

  Thorgrin knelt and lowered his head before her, his heart pounding.

  She lowered the sword point, touching each of his shoulders lightly.

  “Now rise, Thorgrin,” she said. “Rise, King of the Druids.”

  Thor stood again, and as he did, he felt different. Older. Stronger. Unstoppable, filled with the energy of the world.

  She stepped to the side and gestured, and Thor’s eyes opened wide as he saw, lying on a small golden pedestal behind her, the Sorcerer’s Ring.

  “It is time for you to complete your destiny,” she said, “and accept the ring that will change your life.”

  She gestured for him to step forward.

  “It is a walk you can take alone,” she said. “It is a ring meant for you, and you alone.”

  Thor stepped forward, breathless, as he approached the Ring, but feet away. A light shone from it, so bright that he at first had to raise his hands to his eyes. As he neared, he saw it was crafted of a metal he could not discern, appearing to be platinum, streaked with a single thin black ring in its middle, looking to be made of black diamonds. It shone so intensely, it made the sun seem dark.

  Thor stopped before it and reached out with a trembling hand, fearing the power coming off of it, sensing that wearing it would change his life forever.

  “You must wear it on your right hand, Thorgrin,” his mother said. “On your index finger.”

  Thorgrin reached out and slipped it over his finger.

  The second it touched his hand, he felt alive, truly alive, for the first time. He felt a tremendous heat pouring through it, through his finger, through his veins, through his arm, his shoulder, and spreading through his chest, to his heart. It was like a warmth filling him, a fire in his veins, a power he did not recognize. It was like the energy of the sun, filling him to capacity, making him feel so powerful
, making him feel as if he could lift the sky.

  It was like the power of a thousand dragons.

  His mother looked back at him, and he could see in her face that she saw him differently. He knew it himself: he was different now. He no longer felt like a boy, or even a man. He felt greater than a knight, greater than a warrior, greater than a Druid. He felt like a master. He felt like a king. He felt like the King of the Druids.

  As he stood there, Thor felt ready to take on the Blood Lord. He felt ready to take on his entire army.

  “You are the chosen one, Thorgrin,” his mother said. “Your people look to you now. Fulfill your destiny. And fulfill theirs, too.”

  Thorgrin reached out to embrace her, but suddenly she was gone.

  Thor stood there, blinking, confused, and as he looked all around, the castle was gone. The walkway, too, was gone. He stood instead atop a single, empty cliff, on the edge of the world, the edge of nothingness, nothing but a sea of clouds all around him.

  Thor heard a screech and he looked over to see Lycoples sitting but feet before him, staring back with her intense yellow eyes, waiting. She looked at him, at the ring on his finger, and he could see the new respect in her eyes.

  Thor stared back, feeling his power on par with hers.

  With a single bound, he leapt onto her back, feeling a power equal to that of the dragon—and even greater.

  “Let us go,” he commanded, “and retrieve my son.”

  As she flapped her wings and lifted into the air, Thor felt the thrill of battle before him. This time, he was ready.

  Finally, he was ready.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  Reece stood at the bow of the ship, joined by O’Connor, Elden, Indra, Matus, Angel, and Selese, leading his Legion brothers in Thor’s absence, and as they sailed heading east, he focused on the destination that lay before them: the Ring. It was somewhere out there on the horizon, and as they sailed closer with each passing moment, his heart beast faster just to think of it. Finally, after all this time away, he was returning home. Home. It was a word which had long ago lost its meaning.

  Reece felt a great deal of pressure to reach the Ring before it was too late. He knew that Thorgrin would return, would be meeting them there, and would need their help. After all, the Ring was not back in their hands yet, and that meant they would be heading into battle—indeed, the greatest battle of their lives—just as they had when leaving it. It was likely that the entire Empire would descend on it, and Reece knew it was likely that it was battle they could not survive—even with Thorgrin and his dragon.

  And yet still, the thought of fighting for his homeland thrilled Reece, however bleak the odds. The idea of having a chance to inhabit it again, to rebuild it, to start life over once again in this place where he had been raised, where he had all of his memories, made him feel complete, made him feel alive again. Even if he died in the battle, it was a cause he would gladly lay down his life for. After all, what else did one have in the world if they did not have a home?

  As they sailed and sailed, their ship felt empty without Thorgrin there, without his dragon, their presence missed. Now they all looked to Reece for leadership, and he knew he had big shoes to fill. He had always headed into battle with his best friend by his side, and not having him there made him feel more alone.

  Yet Selese stood beside him, having barely left his side since she had joined them on the ship. Reece had grown used to her as a constant presence, so grateful he’d had a second chance with her. The two of them had sailed nearly halfway around the world together, ever since she had emerged from the Land of the Dead, and Reece now couldn’t imagine life without her. He had been so grateful to have her back, to have a chance to rectify his errors, to have a second chance at love with her.

  Reese turned to see Selese looking at him, her light blue eyes angelic, looking more beautiful in the morning light than he’d ever seen her. She stared back, so serene as she always was, an ethereal quality to her. Indeed, since she had left the Land of the Dead, it was as if a part of her were not really here.

  When she looked at him this time, her eyes were watering, and Reece could sense a special intensity to her gaze; he sensed right away that something was wrong.

  “What is it, my love?” he asked, concerned, as he reached for her hand.

  She stared into his eyes.

  “This time we have had together has made my life,” she said, holding his hand.

  Reece felt a pang of concern at her words, at their finality.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, struggling to understand.

  “We were given a second chance, don’t you see?” she said. “I was meant to stay below, in the Land of the Dead, and you brought me back. Your love brought me back.”

  She paused, and in the silence that followed, he wondered where she was going with this.

  “But there was a deal I made,” she finally continued, “a price I had to pay. I knew I was not meant to be with you again forever. It was always meant to be fleeting. Just a chance for us to rectify what we had lost.”

  Reece stared at her, his heart pounding, feeling a sinking sense of foreboding.

  “What are you speaking of, my love?” he asked.

  She looked off into the horizon, and her eyes, so light, filled with tears, nearly glowed.

  “Our time together has come to an end,” she said as she turned and faced him, her eyes watering. She reached up and touched his cheek, caressing it, her skin so soft.

  “But I want you to know that I’ve always loved you,” she added, as his heart broke. “And I will always love you. I shall be looking down on you, always. And always with you.”

  Reece grasped her hand as hard as he could, not wanting to let go.

  “You can’t leave now,” he pleaded, a wave of desperation washing over him. “It’s not fair. I won’t let you.”

  He clasped even harder, trying to hold on, but even as he did, he felt her hand disappearing, ebbing away, as if there were nothing left to hold onto.

  She smiled through her tears.

  “You can never let go of me,” she said. “Nor I of you. We shall always be together.”

  Selese leaned in and kissed him, and he kissed her back, feeling his own eyes watering, as he felt her fading from him.

  “I must go, my love,” she said softly, crying. “Life is coming for you. A new life. But for new life to come, sometimes, death must come first.”

  Selese pulled away from him, Reece feeling her slipping through his fingers, and she backed up until she was at the rail. Then she gently fell backwards, over the railing, falling overboard and into the water.

  Strangely, Reece never heard a splash.

  “Selese!” Reese called out.

  Reece rushed to the rail, the others, alarmed at his voice, went rushing over, too. He reached it and looked over, prepared to jump in after her.

  But he spotted her already impossibly far from the ship, floating on her back, arms spread out, a smile on her face. A mist rolled in, rainbow-colored, embracing her, obscuring her.

  Moments later, she disappeared beneath the surface, and he knew, he just knew, that she was gone from him forever.

  “SELESE!” he called out in anguish, gripping the rail so hard his knuckles turned white.

  He peered into the mist, wondering how the universe could take her away from him, and as he did, out of the mist, he was shocked to see something else appearing, floating toward the ship.

  Reece did a double-take, wondering if he were seeing this. Out of the mist there approached a small vessel, a tiny boat with a single, tattered sail. Inside there lay a body, unmoving.

  The current carried it out of the mist and right for their ship, until it finally smacked against the hull. Reece stared down, baffled—and as he did, his heart stopped in astonishment.

  Death brings forth life.

  Reece’s breath caught in his throat. He looked down and saw lying there, unmoving, a woman he had once loved.

/>   There, alone in the vast sea, unconscious, was Stara.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  Gwendolyn hurried through the tunnel with the others, hundreds of them jogging through the dark, cavernous passageway, the only light cast from the bouncing torches held in soldiers’ hands. Gwen led the pack beside Koldo, fleeing for her life with the rest of the Ridge, leading them deeper and deeper through a tunnel which she only prayed led to freedom.

  Kendrick and his men ran beside her, along with Steffen and several others, Krohn at her heels, and as they twisted and turned down the endless tunnel, voices of fear echoing in the darkness, she realized how dangerous this was. Right now, she and hundreds of others ran deep below the lakes, in a tunnel not used for centuries, one that could collapse at any moment. The tunnel echoed eerily with the sound of chaos, of panic, of people running from their homeland into a dark unknown, only torches to light the way, hoping that somehow it would lead to freedom. And rising above their sounds, even more ominous, was the distant sound of something else: a slamming on the metal doors. The Empire was trying to crash them down, to get in, to follow them, and they pounded relentlessly. It was like a pounding on Gwen’s heart.

  Gwendolyn looked up ahead, saw nothing but more blackness, and she wondered if they would escape in time—or if this tunnel even led to freedom.

  “Are you certain it is not stopped up?” she asked Koldo, who was jogging beside her.

  He shook his head grimly.

  “I am not certain of anything,” he replied darkly. “The tunnel was built before my father’s time. My father never had occasion to use it. None of us had. It is an escape route—and we have never had to escape.”

  Gwen felt a sense of foreboding.

  “Are you saying it could lead to death?” Kendrick asked.

  “It may,” he replied. “But behind us, don’t forget, is certain death.”