Read The Gift of Battle Page 28


  Thor could see the armies lined up on both sides, watching this epic fight, knowing the results would dictate the future for them both.

  As the Blood Lord approached, Thor was on guard, remembering he had been defeated by him once, and sensing within him an energy more evil than any he had ever known.

  As Thor faced him, examined him, he sensed something—and suddenly had a realization.

  “You are my father, reborn,” Thor said, realizing. “You are Andronicus.”

  The Blood Lord grinned down at him with an evil grin.

  “I warned you I would haunt you,” he replied, “that my spirit would live on. That you would have to face me one last time. Now I shall kill you for good, and take back what is mine—my bloodline—Guwayne.”

  Thor, filled with fury at the thought, felt the Destiny Sword itching in his palm. He threw it back and forth, from palm to palm, ready.

  “Let us meet then, Father,” he said. “Finally, let father and son embrace!”

  Thorgrin raised his sword and the Blood Lord raised his halberd, and the two of them rushed each other, meeting in the center of the bridge like rams, in a clash of arms, a clang of metal, that echoed throughout the Canyon.

  Back and forth they went, Thor slashing and the Blood Lord blocking, each with a weapon powerful enough to destroy the world, and each well matched against the other. Thor sensed this was an epic battle between light and darkness, one which held the very fate of the world in the balance. He was facing off, he knew, with the most powerful demon in the world, more powerful even than all the Empire. Thor sensed that the Blood Lord was an amalgamation of dark forces, all released from the darkest corners of the world and coming together in one being.

  As they fought, slashing and blocking, Thor ducking and whirling, he knew the Shield would never be restored until the Blood Lord was finished, until he defeated this final, and worst, enemy. He would also be defeating his father, and a piece of himself.

  “You cannot defeat me,” the Blood Lord said, as he blocked a blow from the Destiny Sword, turning his halberd sideways, then shoved Thor, sending him stumbling back. “Because I am you. Search deep inside, and you can feel it. I am the darkness within you.”

  He rushed forward, swinging the halberd, and Thor was amazed at how fast it came down, slicing through the air even though it was so huge, so unwieldy in his hands. If he had been anyone else, Thor knew, that blow would have sliced him in half.

  But some instinct kicked in Thor, propelled by the Sorcerer’s Ring, that allowed him to jump out of the way at the last second. The halberd just missed, Thor feeling the wind of it.

  The Blood Lord’s eyes widened in surprise, as if he had not expected this. He then swung around, raised the halberd high, and brought it down with both hands, as if to chop Thor in half.

  Thor jumped back, and the halberd lodged itself into the stone of the bridge, embedding itself almost a foot deep as it cut through the stone, the sound of it echoing off the Canyon walls as if thunder had just struck.

  The Blood Lord growled, infuriated; Thor was certain his weapon was stuck, but the Blood Lord surprised him by yanking it out smoothly, as if it were nothing, and charging again.

  As the halberd came down again for his head, this time Thor raised the Destiny Sword and blocked the blow with a clang, sparks flying everywhere, holding it in place overhead. The clang was so loud it, it echoed throughout the cliffs of the Canyon.

  The Blood Lord swung the halberd around again and again, from side to side, each time Thor blocking. Thor was surprised to realize that it was difficult to block each blow, so powerful, even with the Sorcerer’s Ring, even with the Destiny Sword. He realized that any of these blows would have cut an army in half. They were two titanic forces, two titanic weapons smashing into each other.

  Thor, after being backed up by dozens of blows, felt a heat beginning to rise in his palms, felt the power of the Destiny Sword beginning to well up within him. It forced him to raise his arms in one quick gesture, swing the Destiny Sword around and down, both arms above his head, and bring it straight down for the Blood Lord. It came down with more power and strength than he had ever felt, and with a greater speed, and he felt certain it would slice the Blood Lord in two.

  But he turned his halberd and blocked, and Thor was amazed to see him able to stop the blow, albeit with shaking hands. Thor saw the shocked expression on the Blood Lord’s face, and knew he was surprised, did not expect a blow of such force.

  Back and forth they went, swinging and blocking, parrying and ducking and dodging and slashing and stabbing. Neither could land a blow. They were perfectly matched, their great clangs ringing out again and again, like two mountains colliding with each other, as they pushed each other back and forth the Canyon bridge.

  As Thor blocked a blow overhead, his arms shaking, beginning to tire, the Blood Lord surprised him by immediately swinging around for a second blow. Thor blocked, but it threw him off balance, and he found himself stumbling to the side, to the edge of the stone railing lining the bridge.

  Before he could regroup, Thor suddenly felt rough hands grab him from behind, felt himself hoisted high in the air, and found himself weightless, up high, and looking down over the edge of the Canyon.

  Thor could hear his people gasp, thousands of them, as his life hung in the balance.

  And a moment later, Thor felt himself go flying over the edge, hurling into the abyss.

  CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

  As he flew through the air, Thor suddenly felt the Sorcerer’s Ring throbbing on his finger. He felt an incredible power radiate from it, control his hand, his arm, and guide him. It forced him to swing his arm around, impossibly fast, to reach out and grab the stone railing with one hand.

  Thor was amazed to find himself grabbing holding of the stone and, in the same motion, swinging himself back up and around onto the bridge. As he did, he kicked the Blood Lord in the chest, and he, clearly not expecting this, went stumbling back, landing on the ground.

  Thor could hear his people cheer.

  Thor charged and slashed, ready to finish him off, but the Blood Lord surprised him by rolling and blocking. He then swung his halberd around for Thor’s feet. Thor jumped, it barely missing.

  The Blood Lord gained his feet and the two of them faced off, once again slashing and blocking, weapons sparking, as they drove each other back and forth.

  “I am stronger than you, Thorgrin,” the Blood Lord said, between blows. “Darkness is stronger than light!”

  He brought his halberd down and Thorgrin blocked it. But the blow was stronger this time, and as he pushed, it came closer and closer to Thor’s face. With shaking hands, Thor barely held it back.

  “Give in,” the Blood Lord snarled. “Give in to the sweet darkness and join me for all time!”

  Thor managed to push back the blow, sending him back.

  But at the same time, the Blood Lord surprised Thor by immediately swinging up with his halberd, straight up with lightning speed, coming underneath Thor’s sword and managing to smash it out from his hands, disarming him.

  Thor watched in horror as the Destiny Sword went flying up in the air, spinning end over end, then skidded across the stone floor of the Canyon bridge.

  Thorgrin stood there, facing him, unarmed, the Blood Lord between he and his sword, grinning back an evil grin. Thor realized he did not need the Sword. He did not need any weapon; he had all the power he needed within himself.

  Thor lunged forward, unafraid, and tackled the Blood Lord, driving him down to the ground. The Blood Lord was caught off guard by the sudden move, and his halberd went flying as he fell, clanging on the stone.

  The two of them rolled on the stone, Thor trying to pin him down; but the Blood Lord was twice his size, and all-muscle, and as Thor final pinned him, the Blood Lord managed to roll and then pin Thor.

  The Blood Lord held him down, choking him, and as Thor reached up and grabbed his wrists, holding him back, his huge, sharp claws came do
wn right for his throat.

  Thor, losing air, weaved in and out of consciousness. He struggled back with all that he had, but he realized he was losing. The dark force was prevailing. The Sorcerer’s Ring was shining less brightly, as if it, too, were dying.

  As Thor felt himself go weaker, images passed through his mind. He saw his mother, her castle, the skywalk. He saw himself kneeling before her, asking forgiveness.

  “Forgive me, Mother,” he said. “I have failed. I have lost for all time.”

  She placed a hand upon his forehead.

  “You have not failed, Thorgrin. Not until you admit failure.”

  “He is too strong for me,” Thorgrin said. “I have lost the secret. I do not know how to vanquish darkness. My faith does not match his.”

  She smiled down.

  “It is your final lesson, Thorgrin,” she said. “It is the final secret you have been missing all this time. The one you need to win for all time.”

  Thorgrin stared back, in and out of consciousness as he was choked.

  “Tell me, Mother,” he said.

  “It is not power,” she said. “It is not power that makes a warrior great.”

  Thor blinked, feeling his life force ebbing away.

  “But what is it, Mother?”

  She smiled.

  “It is love, Thorgrin. It is love that makes us powerful. Love for your family. Love for your people. Love for your country. Love for honor. And most of all, love for yourself. That is the power you are missing. It is a power greater even than hate.”

  Thor blinked, several times, realizing, and as he did, he felt his body grow warm.

  Thor suddenly opened his eyes, feeling the Ring throbbing on his finger, seeing its light shine more brightly. He looked up at the Blood Lord’s face, saw him scowling down, and finally, Thorgrin understood. He understood the secret to battle. The secret to power. And he suddenly felt an insurmountable power.

  Thor swung his arms around, knocked the Blood Lord’s arms’ grip from his throat and threw him off of him, sending him tumbling back on the stone.

  The Blood Lord turned and looked back in shock. He scrambled to his feet, and for the first time, Thor could spot real fear in his face.

  The Blood Lord scrambled for his halberd, running to it and gripping it with both hands as he faced Thor.

  Thor, feeling all-powerful, walked to the Destiny Sword, reached down and picked it up, knowing that nothing could stop him now.

  The two of them stood there, facing each other, and the Blood Lord let out a fierce battle cry, raised his halberd high, and charged Thor.

  He swung down at Thor, and this time, Thor blocked it easily with the Destiny Sword. Their weapons clanged and sparked as he came at Thor again and again, swinging left and right. But this time, something had changed: Thor reacted more quickly, blocking the blows easily. Thor felt more powerful than ever, and he blocked each blow as if it were nothing.

  The Blood Lord noticed, too, as he stared back at Thor with increasing fear in his face.

  Finally, the Blood Lord stood there, breathing hard, spent.

  Thor, though, was not tired at all. He stepped forward, slashing again and again, his blows more powerful than ever, the Blood Lord raising his halberd and blocking them, but barely in time, weakly. With each sword slash, his reaction time became slower, Thor pushed him back further, and it was getting harder for him to even lift his halberd.

  Finally, Thor came up and around with a great slash, and as he did, he knocked the halberd from the Blood Lord’s grip.

  It went flying, end over end through the air, over the side of the railing, and plunging down into the Canyon.

  The blow had also managed to knock the Blood Lord down onto his back. He lay there, staring up at Thorgrin, shocked. Terrified. Clearly, he had never expected this.

  Thor stood over him, calm, relaxed, stronger than he’d ever been. He had conquered something within himself, and for the first time in his life, he felt free. Fearless. Invincible.

  The Blood Lord must have sensed it, because he looked back at Thor as if he knew something had shifted within him. He raised his hands weakly.

  “You cannot defeat me, Thorgrin!” he yelled. “Lay down your sword and accept me!”

  But Thor stepped forward, drew back the Destiny Sword, and with one definitive thrust, he plunged it into the Blood Lord’s heart. The thrust kept going, the sword lodging in the stone with a tremendous noise, like an earthquake, the entire bridge, the entire Canyon, shaking as it did, as if Thor had plunged the Sword into the spine of the world itself.

  The crowds on both sides of the Canyon gasped as the Blood Lord lay there, flat on his back, staring up at the sky with a look of surprise.

  Dead.

  Suddenly, the dark clouds above parted and there appeared a black funnel cloud, whirling down from the sky like a tornado. It came down right for the body of the Blood Lord, scooped him up, and carried him away, spinning, into nothingness.

  As he died, suddenly, all of his creatures, on both sides of the Canyon, even those attacking Thor’s people, burst into flames, dying, too. His entire army, wiped out with him.

  Thor felt the Sorcerer’s Ring throbbing in his hand, and he reached out and slowly raised his ring finger, knowing the time had come. He aimed it down at the Canyon, and slowly, it began to shake.

  A wall of red and purple light rose up from the mist, swirling, climbing higher and higher; as it increased in velocity, it spread, all the way through the Canyon, aglow with all different colors as it grew more and more solid. Thor’s heart lifted as he realized: the Shield. It was, after all this time, restored.

  Thor watched as on the far side of the Canyon fresh hordes of Empire soldiers tried to cross the bridge, to attack him and his people. But he watched with joy as they bounced into the Shield and were killed on the spot.

  His people, finally safe, let out a great cheer.

  And Thor could not help smiling himself.

  The Ring, finally, was protected. It was one again.

  TWELVE MOONS LATER

  CHAPTER FORTY SIX

  Gwendolyn stood at the window of her chamber, atop the newly built castle in the center of the newly built King’s Court, and as she, holding Guwayne, looked out at the splendor of the city being erected, her heart swelled with joy. Down below, stone by stone, brick by brick, building by building, King’s Court was being rebuilt on its foundations, whatever remained, restored, and whatever did not, built from memory. Even more, they had spread out its original foundations, so the capital was now twice the size it had been in her father’s time. The streets were bustling, joyous people roaming them, hard at work, filled with industry, with purpose. An air of peace, of comfort, spread over the city.

  Endless groups of newly minted knights strolled the newly paved cobblestone streets in their shining armor, making their way to and fro from the newly built training grounds, jousting lanes, and the Hall of the Silver. They also bustled to and fro at the new Hall of Arms, choosing from an endless array of newly forged weapons and armor. She spotted Erec, Kendrick, Brandt, and Atme amongst them, joined by the new ranks of Silver and by scores of knights from the Southern Isles, all laughing, jostling with each other, true joy on their faces.

  Across the new marble courtyard, replete with a golden fountain in its center, Gwen examined the new Hall of the Ridge, hundreds more knights swarming outside it. Koldo, Ludvig, Kaden, Ruth and the remnants of the elite fighting force of the Ridge lingered outside it, the two sides of the MacGil family united from the two ends of the earth. Two armies, now one, and stronger than they had ever been. Gwen thought of her father, of the pride he would take to see them all like this, to see King’s Court like this again.

  The boom in building and prosperity had spread to every corner of the Ring, slowly being re-inhabited over these past twelve moons—even across the Highlands. With the McClouds gone, no longer was there tension on the two sides of the mountains, but harmony and peace, all of them
one nation, flying the same banner. Citizens, every day, spread out to new towns, rebuilding old ones, or starting new ones. The sound of hammers and anvils were everywhere, as new life spread, like a force which could not be stopped. Even all the vineyards and orchards, burnt to the ground but a year ago, were now, under Godfrey’s watchful eye, in bloom again, and bore more fruit and wine than ever. The Ring, Gwen was surprised to realize, was more magnificent than it had ever been.

  But all of that was not even what made Gwendolyn as happy as she was. What filled her heart to overflowing was not only being back home, but more importantly, being back at Thorgrin’s side again—and having Guwayne back in her arms. She held him tight and looked down into his glowing gray eyes, his blond hair, and she could hardly believe that he was one year old today. He was a strikingly beautiful child, and not a day went by when she did not spend all the time with him that she could, taking more joy from him than just about anything else. After all they had been through, she could appreciate, more than ever, what it meant to be apart from him, and vowed that should never happen again.

  Bells tolled in the distance, harmonious, soothing, and Gwen remembered why she was even happier on this day than most. For today, after so much turmoil, so many obstacles, so much time apart, she would officially be wed to her love, to Thorgrin. Gwen’s heart beat faster at the thought, and she looked down and saw the city resplendent on this day, people hurrying in all directions as wedding preparations filled the city. Doors were being draped with roses, streets lined with petals, casks of wine being rolled out onto fields as benches were set before them. Jugglers and musicians and bards were gathering in bands, preparing, while cooks were toiling over vats of meat. And in the center of it all, countless chairs were being lined up before the most beautiful altar Gwen had ever seen, ten feet high and draped with white roses.