Morgan Rice: 5 Beginnings (Turned, Arena one, A Quest of Heroes, Rise of the Dragons, and Slave, Warrior, Queen)

by Morgan Rice

  “My brother!” came a voice.

  Thor turned to see a boy a few years older than him, with a small belly yet broad shoulders, unshaven, looking somewhat slovenly, step forward and embrace Reece in an awkward hug. He was joined by three companions, who seemed equally slovenly.

  “I never thought I’d find you here!” he added.

  “Well, once in a while I need to follow in my brother’s footsteps, don’t I?” Reece shouted back with a smile. “Thor, do you know my brother, Godfrey?”

  Godfrey turned and shook Thor’s hand, and Thor could not help but notice how smooth and plump it was. It was not a warrior’s hand.

  “Of course I know the newcomer,” Godfrey said, leaning in too close and slurring his words. “The whole kingdom is alive with talk of him. A fine warrior I hear,” he said to Thor. “Too bad. What a waste of a talent for the alehouse!”

  Godfrey leaned back and roared with laughter, and his three companions joined him. One of them, a head taller than the others, with a huge belly, bright red cheeks, and flush with drink, leaned forward and clamped a hand on Thor’s shoulder.

  “Bravery is a fine trait. But it sends you to the battlefield, and keeps you cold. Being a drunk is a better trait: it keeps you safe and warm—and assures a warm lady by your side!”

  He roared with laughter, as did the others, and the bartender set down fresh casks of ale for all of them. Thor hoped he wouldn’t be asked to drink; he could already feel the ale rushing to his head.

  “It was his first hunt today!” Reece yelled out to his brother.

  “Was it then?” Godfrey replied. “Well then that calls for a drink, doesn’t it?”

  “Or two!” his tall friend echoed.

  Thor looked down as another cask was shoved into his palm.

  “To firsts!” Godfrey called out.

  “TO FIRSTS!” the others echoed.

  “May your life be filled with firsts,” the tall one echoed, “except for the first time being sober!”

  They all roared with laughter, as they drank their casks.

  Thor sipped his, then tried to get away with lowering it—but Godfrey caught him.

  “That’s not the way you drink it boy!” Godfrey yelled. He stepped forward, grabbed the cask, put it to Thor’s lips, and pushed it down his mouth. The men all laughed as Thor gulped it down. He set it down, empty, and they cheered.

  Thor felt lightheaded. He was beginning to feel out of control, and it was harder to focus. He didn’t like the feeling.

  Thor felt another squirm in his shirt, as Krohn reared his head.

  “Well, what have we here!” Godfrey shouted in delight.

  “It’s a leopard cub,” Thor said.

  “We found it on the hunt,” Reece added.

  “He’s hungry,” Thor said. “I’m not sure what to feed him.”

  “Why, of course, ale!” the tall man yelled.

  “Really?” Thor asked. “Is that healthy for him?”

  “Of course!” Godfrey yelled. “It is just hops, boy!”

  Godfrey reached out, dipped his finger into the foam, and held it out; Krohn leaned forward and licked it up. He licked again and again.

  “See, he likes it!”

  Godfrey suddenly retracted his finger with a scream. He held it up and showed blood.

  “Sharp teeth on that one!” he yelled out—and the others all broke into laughter.

  Thor reached down, stroked Krohn’s head, and tilted the remnant of his cask into his mouth. Krohn lapped it up, and Thor resolved to find him real food. He hoped that Kolk would let him stay in the barracks, and hoped none of the Legion objected.

  The musicians changed their song, and several more friends of Godfrey’s appeared. They came over, joined them in a fresh round of drinks, and led Godfrey away, back into the crowd.

  “I will see you later young man,” Godfrey said to Reece, before leaving. Then he turned to Thor: “Hopefully, you’ll spend more time in the alehouse!”

  “Hopefully you’ll spend more time on the battlefield,” Kendrick called back.

  “I very much doubt that!” Godfrey said and roared with laughter with the rest of his compatriots, as he disappeared into the crowd.

  “Do they always celebrate like this?” Thor asked Reece.

  “Godfrey? He’s been in the alehouse since he could walk. A disappointment to my father. But he’s happy with himself.”

  “No, I mean the King’s men. The Legion. Is there always a trip to the alehouse?”

  Reece shook his head.

  “Today is a special day. The first hunt, and the summer solstice. This doesn’t happen that often. Enjoy it while it does.”

  Thor was feeling increasingly disoriented as he looked around the room. This was not where he wanted to be. He wanted to be back in the barracks, training. And his thoughts drifted, once again, to Gwendolyn.

  “Did you get a good look at him?” Kendrick asked, as he came up to Thor.

  Thor looked at him, puzzled.

  “The man, in the woods, who shot the arrow?” Kendrick added.

  The others crowded around close, trying to hear as the mood grew serious.

  Thor tried again to remember, but he could not. Everything was fuzzy.

  “I wish I did,” he said. “It all happened so fast.”

  “Maybe it was just one of the king’s other men, shooting in our direction by accident,” O’Connor said.

  Thor shook his head.

  “He wasn’t dressed like the others. He wore all-black, and a cloak and hood. And he only shot one arrow, aimed right for Kendrick, then disappeared. I’m sorry. I wish I saw more.”

  Kendrick shook his head, trying to think.

  “Who would want you dead?” Reece asked Kendrick.

  “Was it an assassin?” O’Connor asked.

  Kendrick shrugged. “I have no enemies that I know of.”

  “But father has many,” Reece said. “Maybe someone wants to kill you to get to him.”

  “Or maybe someone wants you out of the way for the throne,” Elden postulated.

  “But that’s absurd! I’m illegitimate! I cannot inherit the throne!”

  While they all shook their heads, sipping their ale and trying to figure it out, there came another shout in the room, and all the men’s attention turned towards the staircase leading upstairs. Thor looked up, and saw a string of ladies walk out of an upper hallway, stand by a bannister, and look down at the room. They were all scantily dressed, and wore too much makeup.

  Thor blushed.

  “Well, hello men!” called the lady in front, with a large bosom and wearing a red lace outfit.

  The men cheered.

  “Who’s got money to spend tonight?” she asked.

  The men cheered again.

  Thor’s eyes opened wide in surprise.

  “Is this also a brothel?” he asked.

  The others turned and looked at him in stunned silence, then all broke into laughter.

  “My God, you are naïve, aren’t you!” Conval said.

  “Tell me you’ve never been to a brothel?” Conven said.

  “I bet he’s never been with a woman!” Elden said.

  Thor felt them all looking at him, and he felt his face turn red as a beet. He wanted to disappear. They were right: he had never been with a woman. But he would never tell them that. He wondered if it was obvious from his face.

  Before he could respond, one of the twins reached up, clasped a firm hand on his back, and threw a gold coin up to the woman on the stairs.

  “I believe you have your first customer!” he yelled.

  The room cheered, and Thor, despite his pushing and pulling and resisting, felt himself shoved forward by dozens of men, through the crowd, and up the staircase. As he went, his mind filled with thoughts of Gwen. Of how much he loved her. Of how he didn’t want to be with anyone else.

  He wanted to turn and run. But there was literally no escape. Dozens of the biggest men he had ever seen shoved hi
m forward, and did not allow retreat. Before he knew it, he was up the steps, on the landing, staring at a woman taller than he, who were too much perfume, and smiled down at him. Making matters worse, Thor was drunker than he had ever been. The room was positively spinning out of control, and he felt that in another moment he would collapse.

  The woman reached down, pulled Thor’s shirt, led him firmly into a room, and slammed the door behind them. Thor was determined not to be with her. He held in his mind thoughts of Gwen, forcing them to the front. This was not how he wanted his first experience to be.

  But his mind was not listening. He was so drunk, he could barely see now. And the last thing he remembered, before he blacked out, was being led across the room, towards a lady’s bed, and hoping he made it before he hit the floor.

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  MacGil peeled open his eyes, awakened by the relentless pounding on his door, and immediately, he wished he hadn’t. His head was splitting. Harsh sunlight shone in through the open castle window, and he realized his face was planted in his sheepskin blanket. Disoriented, he tried to remember. He was home, in his castle. He tried to summon the night before. He remembered the hunt. Then, an alehouse, in the woods. Drinking way too many casks. Somehow, he must have made it back here.

  He looked over and saw his wife, the Queen, sleeping beside him, under the covers and slowly rousing.

  The pounding came again, the awful noise of an iron knocker slamming.

  “Who could that be at this hour?” she asked, annoyed.

  MacGil was wondering the same thing. He specifically remembered leaving instructions with his servants not to wake him—especially after the hunt. There’d be hell to pay for this.

  It was probably his steward, with another petty financial matter.

  “Stop that bloody banging!” MacGil finally bellowed, rolling out of bed, sitting with his elbows on his knees, hand in his head. He ran his hands through his unwashed hair and beard, then over his face, trying to wake himself up. The hunt—and the ale—had taken a lot out of him. He wasn’t as limber as he used to be. The years had taken their toll; he was exhausted. At this moment, he felt like never drinking again.

  With a supreme effort he pushed himself off his knees, and to his feet. Dressed only in his robe, he quickly crossed the room, and finally reached the door, a foot thick, grabbing the iron handle and yanking it back.

  Standing there was his greatest general, Brom, flanked by two attendants. They lowered their heads in deference, but his general stared right at him, a grim look on his face. MacGil hated it when he wore that look. It always meant somber news. It was at moments like these that he hated being King. He had been having such a good day yesterday, a great hunt, and it had reminded him of when he was young, carefree. Especially wasting the night away like that in the alehouse. Now, to be rudely awakened like this, it took away any illusion of peace he had had.

  “My liege, I am sorry to wake you,” Kolk said.

  “You should be sorry,” MacGil growled. “This better be important.”

  “It is,” he said.

  He spotted the seriousness of his face, and turned and checked back over his shoulder for his queen. She was still asleep.

  MacGil gestured for them to enter, then led them through his vast bedroom, and through another arched door, to a side chamber, shutting the door behind them so as not to disturb her. He sometimes used this smaller room, no greater than twenty paces in each direction, with a few comfortable chairs and a big stained-glass window, when he didn’t feel like going down to the Great Hall.

  “My liege, our spies have told us of a McCloud contingent of men, riding east, for the Fabian Sea. And our scouts in the south report a caravan of empire ships, heading north. Surely they must be heading there to meet the McClouds.”

  MacGil tried to process this information, his brain moving too slowly in his drunken state.

  “And?” he prodded, impatient, tired. He was so exhausted by the endless machinations and speculations and subterfuges of his court.

  “If the McClouds are truly meeting with the Empire, there can only be one purpose,” Brom continued. “To conspire to breach the Canyon and overthrow the Ring.”

  MacGil looked up at his old commander, a man who we had fought with for thirty years, and could see the deadly seriousness in his eyes. He could also see fear. That disturbed him: this was not a man he had ever seen fear anything.

  MacGil slowly rose, to his full height, which was still considerable, and turned and walked across the room, until he reached the window. He looked out, surveying his court below, empty in the early morning, and thought to himself. He knew, all along, that one day a day like this would come. He just had not expected it to come so soon.

  “That was quick,” he said. “It’s been but hours since I married off my daughter to their prince. And now you think they already conspire to overthrow us?”

  “I do, my liege,” Brom responded sincerely. “I see no other reason. All indications are it is a peaceful meeting. Not a military one.”

  MacGil slowly shook his head.

  “But it does not make sense. They could not let the Empire in. Why would they? Even if for some reason they managed to help lower the Shield on our side and open a breach, then what would happen? The Empire would overwhelm them as well. They would not be safe, either. Surely, they know this.”

  “Maybe they are going to strike a deal,” Brom retorted. “Maybe they will let the Empire in, in return for their attacking us only, so that the McClouds can control the Ring.”

  MacGil shook his head.

  “The McClouds are too smart for that. They are crafty. They know that the Empire cannot be trusted.”

  His general shrugged.

  “Maybe they want control of the Ring so badly, they are willing to take that chance. Especially now that they have your daughter as their queen.”

  MacGil thought about this. His head was pounding. He did not want to deal with this now. Not so early in the morning.

  “So then what do you propose?” he asked, short with him, tired of all the speculation.

  “We could preempt this, sire, and attack the McClouds. The time is now.”

  MacGil could hardly believe it.

  “Right after I gave my daughter to them in a wedding? I don’t think so.”

  “If we don’t,” Brom countered, “we allow them to dig our grave. Surely they will attack us. If not now, then later. And if they join with the empire, we would be finished.”

  “They cannot cross the Highlands so easily. We control all the choke points. It would be a slaughter. Even with the empire in tow.”

  “The empire have millions of men to spare,” Kolk responded. “They can afford to be slaughtered.”

  “Even with the shield down,” MacGil said, “it would not be so easy to just march millions of soldiers across the Canyon—or across the Highlands, or to approach by ship. We would spot such mobilization far in advance. We would have warning.”

  MacGil thought.

  “No, we will not attack. But for now, we can take a prudent step: double our patrols at the Highlands. Strengthen our fortifications. And double our spies. That will be all.”

  “Yes, my liege,” Brom said, turning, with his lieutenants and hurrying from the room.

  MacGil turned back to the window, his head pounding. He sensed war on the horizon, coming at him with the inevitability of a winter storm. He sensed, further, that there was nothing he could do about it. He looked all around him, at his castle, at the stone, at the pristine royal court spread out beneath him, and he could not help but wonder how long all of this would last.

  What he would give now for another drink.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  Thor felt a foot nudging him in his ribs, and he slowly peeled opened his eyes. He lay face down, on a mound of straw, and for a moment had no idea where he was. His head felt like it weighed a million pounds, his throat was drier than it had ever been, and his eyes and he
ad were killing him. He felt as if he’d fallen off a horse.

  He was nudged again, and he sat up, the room spinning violently. He leaned over and threw up, gagging again and again.

  A chorus of laughter erupted all around him, and he looked up to see Reece, O’Connor, Elden and the twins hovering close by, looking down.

  “Finally, sleeping beauty wakes!” Reece called out, smiling.

  “We didn’t think you’d ever rise,” O’Connor said.

  “Are you okay?” Elden asked.

  Thor sat up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to process it all. As he did, Krohn, lying a few feet away, whimpered and ran over to him, jumping into his arms and burying his head in his shirt. Thor was relieved to see him, and happy to have him at his side. He tried to remember.

  “Where am I?” Thor asked. “What happened last night?”

  The three of them laughed.

  “I’m afraid you had one drink too many, my friend. Someone can’t hold his ale. Don’t you remember? The alehouse?”

  Thor closed his eyes, rubbing his temples, and tried to bring it all back. It came in flashes. He remembered the hunt…entering the alehouse…the drinks. He remembered being led upstairs…the brothel. After that, it was all black.

  His heart quickened, as he thought of Gwendolyn. Had he done anything stupid with that girl? Had he ruined his chances with Gwen?

  “What happened?” he pressed Reece, serious, as he clasped his wrist. “Please, tell me. Tell me I didn’t do anything with that woman.”

  The others laughed, but Reece stared back at his friend earnestly, realizing how upset he was.

  “Don’t worry, friend,” he answered. “You did nothing at all. Except for throw up and collapse on her floor!”

  The others laughed again.

  “So much for your first time,” Elden said.

  But Thor felt deeply relieved. He had not alienated Gwen.

  “Last time I buy you a woman!” said Colven.

  “Perfectly good waste of money,” said Caven. “She wouldn’t even return it!”

  The boys laughed again. Thor was humiliated, but so relieved he had not ruined anything.