Gwendolyn turned and looked at Thor and Kendrick and Erec and all her other advisors, who stared back at her doubtfully.
“This girl has a fanciful imagination,” Kendrick said. “I doubt that our brother, of all places, would choose to take refuge beside our father’s corpse.”
“Stranger things have happened,” Erec said.
“We are wasting time here,” Srog said. “Let us move on and get on with affairs of state.”
“No,” Gwen said. “I want to know. We shall see for ourselves.”
Gwendolyn turned and nodded to Kendrick.
“Would you like to see if our brother lies inside?”
Kendrick hurried for the crypt, ducking his head and descending the steps to the blackness.
Aberthol turned to the girls, who seemed increasingly nervous.
“Do you know the punishment for misleading the queen?”
“I know what I saw!” Sarka insisted, “he went—”
They were interrupted by a sudden shout from inside the crypt, followed by the sound of a scuffle down below.
Gwendolyn’s men burst into action: Thor, Erec and the others all rushed down the steps, to Kendrick’s aid. Gwendolyn peered into the blackness in surprise, wondering what on earth could have happened down there, especially if the crypt were empty. Had he encountered an animal?
Kendrick emerged moments later, with the others, and Gwen was in absolute shock to see him dragging Gareth. It was like a dream.
Gareth emerged into the day like a rat from a hole, looking more pale and sickly than she’d ever seen, looking more dead than alive. Gareth. The former king. Her father’s usurper. Alive. Somehow, he had survived.
It all came rushing back to Gwen: Gareth’s repeated attempts to have her killed, and her body flushed with a hot rage. Vengeance was long overdue. She studied him, and she saw that her former older brother was gone. He had been replaced by this wasted piece of decaying flesh, nearly unrecognizable from the boy he once was.
Gareth squinted into the sunlight as he looked back at her, arms and body trembling.
Gwen took a step forward and examined him, as the others held his arms.
“So, you live after all,” she said with contempt. “What a shame.”
Gwen’s eyes slowly opened, as he scowled back at her, eyes darting, taking in all the men around him with fear. Yet still, somehow, he managed to exude arrogance.
“Guards, arrest her!” Gareth screamed to the soldiers. “I am still lawful King! She has no claim! My lordship was ratified by the council! You break the law to lay a hand upon me!”
The soldiers looked at each other in confusion, yet none made a move towards Gwen. They were all obedient to her.
Gwen shook her head slowly.
“Pathetic to the end,” she said to him. “No one here is loyal to you. No one ever has been. You are not a King—you never were. You are merely the assassin of our father. And your day of judgment has come.”
Aberthol cleared his throat.
“My lady, if I may,” he chimed in. “Technically, Gareth is correct. He was ratified, and the strength of our Ring lies in our upholding our law. Even if we do not reinstate his kingship, we cannot execute him without witnesses to his crime. If we are to follow the strict letter of the law, you have no legal right to kill Gareth.”
Gwen studied Gareth, feeling all the eyes of the men on her. It was one of those moments in her reign, she could feel it, all men looking to her to see what she would do. Would she follow the strict letter of the law? It was a moment like this that would let all of her subjects know what sort of leader she would be.
“You are right,” she finally replied. “It is against the law. And as such, I shall not have any of my men kill Gareth.”
Gareth slumped in relief.
Gwen leaned over, drew the shining sword from Thor’ scabbard, a clang ringing through the air, then stepped forward, pulled back her hand, and stabbed her brother through the heart.
All the men gasped, as Gareth collapsed silently to his knees, the sword up to the hilt in his chest.
He fell to his face, his head turned sideways, eyes wide open.
Dead.
Gwen looked up and slowly studied all the faces looking back at her. She could see a fresh look of respect on them.
“There is a time to follow laws,” she said. “And a time to write them.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Thorgrin walked through the jubilant crowd in the center of King’s Court, winding his way through the festivities, thousands of soldiers celebrating in a great throng. The city was in ruin, but one could not tell from the high spirits of these revelers. It warmed Thor’s heart to see King’s Court alive again with the spirit of his countrymen, all celebrating, all elated to be alive, to be liberated from the Empire.
Having just left Gwendolyn, Thor’s mind was consumed by thoughts of her. He had been so impressed by how she had stepped into the role of Queen, handling it all so seamlessly. He had also been impressed by her strength, her courage, her fearlessness, and her wisdom. It took a lot of courage to deal with Gareth—and all the others—the way she had.
Ever since they had returned to King’s Court, Thor had wanted nothing more than to be with her, to spend time alone. After the crypt, he thought perhaps he’d have his chance to find time alone with her, to take her away someplace special so he could, finally, propose. His mother’s ring was burning in his pocket.
But Gwen had been detained by several advisors and counselors, all pulling her in different directions, needing her to make urgent decisions and pass judgment on various matters. He knew she would be detained for quite a while, and he wanted to give her time and space to handle her matters. In the meantime, he had matters of his own he wanted to tend to.
His sister. Alistair.
Ever since she had saved him on the battlefield and had brought him back to his self, Thor had desperately wanted to see his sister. He needed to thank her, to know more about her, to find out everything.
Thor could still hardly believe he had a sister in this world. A real sister. The thought thrilled him. He could not explain it, but somehow he felt less alone in the world. He wanted to know everything about her, where she hailed from, whether she had ever met their mother, what powers she had, how she was different from him—and how she was the same.
Thor realized he partly wanted to know more about her in order to know more about himself. He still found himself a mystery, and he hoped that she might help solve it.
As Thor wound his way through the crowd of revelers, crossing King’s Court as he searched for her, he recognized countless faces of fellow soldiers, men he respected, men he had fought with, and he braced himself, afraid they would all hate him, blame him for the time he’d spent fighting for Andronicus. To Thor’s pleasant surprise, everywhere he went he was met, instead, with warm embraces, friendly smiles, with cries of love. People clapped him on the back everywhere he went, calling out his name. He was a hero.
Thor felt the need to apologize for his actions, but the people constantly reminded him of all the good he had done for the Ring, reminded him how he had killed more Empire with the Destiny Sword and with those dragons than any other soldier. He had even killed Andronicus. And even when he faced them in battle, he had never killed any members of the Western Kingdom, but only McClouds. They knew his momentary lapse under Andronicus’ spell to be nothing more than a spell out of his control, and they did not blame him for it. On the contrary, they all viewed him as their greatest hero.
Thor spotted Godfrey in the crowd, with Akorth, Fulton and the royal healer, Illepra, with a large welt on his head. Thor went up to him, cringing, afraid the welt was his fault and that Godfrey would be furious with him, remembering the blow of the shield he had dealt him.
But instead, Godfrey smiled wide, threw out his arms and embraced Thor. Thor hugged him back, flooded with relief.
“Please accept my apology,” Thor said. “I don’t know what ca
me over me.”
“I’m not hurt,” Godfrey said. “It is merely a lump on the head. Do not apologize, because I know very well what came over you: Andronicus’ dark magic. You were not yourself, not the Thorgrin that I knew. Do not beat yourself up: it could have happened to any of us.”
“On the contrary,” Kendrick said, joining them and clasping Thor’s shoulder, “do you not forget that it was you who risked his life to venture into the Empire to retrieve the Sword? That it was you who volunteered to face Andronicus alone and thus fell into ambush and capture? It was brave and noble of you. And you did it all for the Ring.”
Kendrick hugged him and Thor hugged him back. Thor felt his heart warm, felt his waves of guilt starting to dissipate; he was overcome with relief, especially as he had thought of these two men as brothers, and especially as he was about to propose to Gwendolyn. Having her brothers’ approval meant a lot. They would indeed be family, the only family he’d ever really had.
All of which made Thor remember the reason he had come here: to speak with his sister.
“Have you seen Alistair?” Thor asked.
“Last I saw,” Kendrick said, “she was with Erec, on the far side of King’s Court. Check the opposite side of the square.”
Thor made his way to the other side of the courtyard, stopping along the way to greet various soldiers. Finally, he reached the far side and he stopped as he saw her there, standing with Erec, engrossed in conversation. Seeing her there was like seeing a part of himself. He suddenly felt nervous. Thor also felt guilty to interrupt them, and was about to turn around and go back, when he noticed Alistair had spotted him, and beckoned him to approach.
As Thor came up to them, Erec turned, too, and his face lit up with kindness. He embraced Thor, and Thor embraced him back, overcome with guilt as he recalled that the last time he had faced him it had been in battle.
“Forgive me, sire,” Thor said to Erec, lowering his eyes. “I never meant to face you in battle. I would never mean to harm you. I was not myself.”
Erec clasped Thor on the shoulder with one hand and looked into his eyes.
“I take no offense, young Thorgrinson. And a fine fighter you are—the finest I’ve ever faced. You sharpened my skills on that day.”
Erec smiled down at him, and Thor could not help smiling back, relieved.
“I am glad to have you on our side,” Erec concluded.
Thor noticed Alistair.
“I do not mean to interrupt,” Thor said quickly, and prepared to retreat.
“No,” Erec said, “brother and sister should have some time alone. It is I who will retreat.”
Erec kissed Alistair’s hand, turned, and hurried off into the crowd, clasping arms with several soldiers, who rushed forward to embrace him.
Thor was nervous as he turned and looked at his sister, laying eyes on her up close for the first time with a clear and present mind. She stared back at him, expressionless, and for a moment, he did not know what to say. She was stunningly beautiful, and her large blue eyes transfixed him. He could recognize some of his own facial features in hers—the jaw line, the nose, lips, forehead. It was almost like looking into a mirror, but at a female version of himself. Alistair, though, was much more beautiful, having all the fine, delicate features that he did not. As he examined her, it excited him to see that there was someone else in the world that resembled him.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” Thor said finally, after a long awkward silence, clearing his throat. “You brought me back.”
“I only brought you back to yourself,” she said. “I did nothing more.”
As Thor heard her words, once again he felt a vibration course through him, one that put him at ease, that seemed so familiar, so comforting.
“You are a Druid, like myself?” Thor asked, hesitant.
Alistair nodded.
“We share the same blood,” she said.
Thor felt happy, yet sorry for her at the same time. He understood the pain and mystery she must live under, to have Andronicus as a father and to have a mother they’d never met.
“Did you ever meet our father?” Thor asked her, hesitant, not wanting to upset her.
Alistair blinked several times, and Thor could see the idea pained her.
“No,” she said, sadly. “Only on the battlefield, when I was with you.”
It was strange, but Thor could almost feel her thoughts as she thought them; he almost knew what she was going to say before she said it. It was as if they were the same person.
“I live with the nightmare every day,” she added, “of knowing that he is my father. I cannot understand it; nor can I reconcile it inside myself. How can I come from such a monster? Why would our mother choose him? It makes me sick to think of it. Are his traits somewhere inside me? Will they pass on to my children? I would give anything to have a different father; yet this is the father I was given. There must be some reason, some destiny I do not understand.”
She sighed, and Thor could see the burden she lived under; it was the same one he shared, and it felt good, at least, to see he was not alone.
“At least now, thanks to you,” she added, “he is dead. And I do thank you for it. It takes some of the pain away. So you see, my brother, I have as much to thank you for,” she said, smiling.
Thor smiled back. His heart pounded as he braced himself to ask Alistair the next question, nervous to utter the words. Too much was at stake on her answer; he almost didn’t speak.
“And our mother?” Thor finally mustered the courage to ask. “Have you met her?”
Alistair looked away, and breathed deep. She fell silent for so long, Thor was unsure if she would even respond.
Finally, she said: “I do not know if I’ve ever met her or only dreamt of her. My dreams are so vivid, I do not know if they are real, or if they are memories. I still dream of her all the time. She comes to me. She lives in a castle, perched high on the edge of a cliff, overlooking a great ocean. There is a long footbridge that curves and leads up to it. Light shines from the castle, a brilliant light, different colors in different dreams. I always see her, obscured by light. Sometimes she reaches out for me. I can never quite reach her.”
She sighed.
“I have had this dream so long, I no longer know if it’s real. My entire life I’ve seen her—yet I’ve never really seen her.”
Thor breathed deep, overwhelmed to hear that someone else had the same experience, even the same dreams, as he.
“It is the same with me,” he said.
She looked back at him, eyes wide in shock.
“Then you’ve never met her, either?” she asked in wonder.
Thor shook his head.
“I must,” he said. “I’m determined to meet her. It is a journey I feel called to make. I feel there is some great mystery lurking at the edge of my consciousness, about who I am, who I am meant to be, that I will never fully understand until I meet her.”
She gasped.
“I feel the same. Every day I wake up, I feel it, and yet, a part of me is afraid to. The timing is never right. Now is not the time to make the journey; now is the time for me to be at Erec’s side. He is my husband-to-be, and we are finally united again, after all these wars.”
“I understand,” Thor said. “Nor do I want to leave Gwendolyn’s side. Something is burning inside me, something greater than I can understand. It is more than just about meeting her: it is about meeting myself.”
Alistair nodded.
“Whenever I use my powers,” she said, “I feel it is her, coming through me. I feel connected to her. Though they are powers I do not even understand, and sometimes cannot control.”
“Nor do I understand mine,” Thor said.
“All my life, growing up, I had been afraid of it,” Alistair said. “I assumed something was wrong with me, that I was some sort of freak. Others would look at me differently. I would have to leave, to move, to go from town to town. I had many foster families. Few of the
m were kind.”
Alistair sighed.
“Finally, I just stopped using my powers. I suppressed them. It was only recently, when I met Erec, when I fell in love for the first time, that I felt comfortable to use them again. And then, again, once I met Gwendolyn. And then, for you.”
Thor understood all of her words, all too well.
“Now I realize that they are nothing to be ashamed of,” Alistair said. “They are part of who we are. They are a part of us.”
Thor nodded, understanding.
“Do you know where she lives?” Thor asked.
Allison look back, then finally nodded.
“She left me something—” she began to say, but then was interrupted.
“Thorgrin! There you are!” came a jolly voice.
Thor turned to see Reece, standing there, smiling, clasping his shoulder. He embraced Thor, and Thor embraced him back.
Thor was thrilled to be reunited with his friend, but he also turned to Alistair, dying to hear what she was about to say.
But Alistair was backing away, preparing to leave.
“I’m sorry, I did not mean to interrupt,” Reece said, looking back and forth between the two, realizing too late.
Alistair shook her head, leaving.
“We shall finish our conversation another time,” she said. “I must return to Erec. Until next time, my brother,” she said, turning and quickly hurrying off.
Thor was disappointed; he had been desperate to hear what she had to say about their mother, about where she lived, about what she had left her.
Reece was jubilant beside him, eager to talk, and Thor turned to him, overjoyed to see his friend, too.
“I have heard of your journeys, my friend,” Thor said with admiration, “to the depths of the Canyon, to retrieve the Sword. I heard of the fine work you’ve done to save our kingdom. I would expect nothing less of you.”
Reece shook his head humbly.
“And I have heard of yours,” he said admiringly. Then his face darkened. “I’m sorry I could not be there for you. And I’m sorry to hear what happened to you. You have suffered greatly for all of us. I am thrilled you have returned to us. And I’m glad you are alive!”