Morgan Rice: A Cry of Honor

But what stumped Kendrick as he rode was that the McClouds were nowhere in sight. He could not understand it. It was as if the entire army had evacuated deliberately, as if they had known they were coming. Fires were still alight, and it was clear that they had been lit with a purpose.

It was beginning to dawn on Kendrick that this was all a decoy. That the McClouds had wanted to lure the MacGil army to this place.

But why?

Kendrick suddenly spun, looked around, desperate to see if any of his men were missing, if any contingent had been lured away, to another spot. His mind was flooding with a new sense, a sense that this had all been arranged to cordon off a group of his men, to ambush them. He looked everywhere, wondering who was missing.

And then it hit him. One person was missing. His squire.

Thor.

Thor sat on his horse, atop the hill, the group of Legion members and Krohn beside him, and looked out at the startling sight before him: as far as the eye could see were McCloud troops, sitting on horseback, a vast and sprawling army, awaiting them. They had been set up. Forg must have led them here on purpose, must have betrayed them. But why?

Thor swallowed, looking out at what appeared to be their sure death.

A great battle cry rose up as the McCloud army suddenly charged them. They were but a few hundred yards away, and closing in fast. Thor glanced back over his shoulder, but there were no reinforcements as far as he could see. They were completely alone.

Thor knew they had no other choice but to make a last stand here, on this small hill, beside this deserted keep. They were impossible odds, and there was no way they could win. But if he was going to go down, he would go down bravely and face them all like a man. The Legion had taught him that much. Running was not an option; Thor prepared himself to face his death.

Thor turned and looked at his friends’ faces, and he could see they, too, were pale with fear; he saw death in their eyes. But to all of their credit, they remained brave. Not one of them flinched, even though their horses pranced, or made a move to turn and run. The Legion was one unit now. They were more than friends: the Hundred had forged them into one team of brothers. Not one of them would leave the other. They had all taken a vow, and their honor was at stake. And to the Legion, honor was more sacred than blood.

“Gentlemen, I do believe we have a fight before us,” Reece announced slowly, as he reached over and drew his sword.

Thor reached down and drew his sling, wanting to take out as many as he could before they reached them. O’Connor drew his short spear, while Elden hoisted his javelin; Conval raised a throwing hammer, and Conven a throwing pick. The other boys with them from the Legion, the ones Thor did not know, drew their swords and raised their shields. Thor could feel the fear in the air, and he felt it too as the thunder of the horses grew, as the sound of the McClouds’ cries reached the heavens, sounding like a rolling clap of thunder about to hit them. Thor knew they needed a strategy – but he did not know what.

Next to Thor, Krohn snarled. Thor drew inspiration from Krohn’s fearlessness: he never whimpered or looked back once. In fact, the hairs rose on his back and he slowly walked forward, as if to meet the army alone. Thor knew that in Krohn he had found a true battle companion.

“Do you think the others will reinforce us?” O’Connor asked.

“Not in time,” Elden answered. “We’ve been set up by Forg.”

“But why?” Reece asked.

“I don’t know,” Thor answered, stepping forward on his horse, “but I have a sinking feeling it has something to do with me. I think someone wants me dead.”

Thor felt the others turn and look at him.

“Why?” Reece asked.

Thor shrugged. He did not know, but he had some inkling it had to do with all the machinations at King’s court, something to do with the assassination of MacGil. Most likely, it was Gareth. Perhaps he viewed Thor as a threat.

Thor felt terrible for having endangered his brothers-in-arms, but there was nothing he could do about it now. All he could do was try to defend them.

Thor had enough. He shouted and kicked his horse, and burst forward at a gallop, charging out before the others. He would not wait here to be met by this army, met by his death. He would take the first blows, maybe even divert some from his brothers-in-arms, and give them a chance to run if they decided to. If he was going to meet his ending, he would meet it fearlessly, with honor.

Shaking inside but refusing to show it, Thor galloped farther and farther from the others, charging down the hill towards the advancing army. Beside him, Krohn sprinted, not missing a beat.

Thor heard a shout as behind him, his fellow Legion members raced to catch up. They were hardly twenty yards away, and they galloped after him, raising a battle cry. Thor remained out in front, yet it still felt good to have their support behind him.

Before Thor a contingent of warriors broke out from the McCloud army, charging ahead to meet Thor, perhaps fifty men. They were a hundred yards ahead and closing in fast, and Thor pulled back his sling, set a stone, took aim, and hurled. He targeted the lead warrior, a large man with a silver breastplate, and his aim was perfect. He hit the man at the base of the throat, between the plates of armor, and the man fell from his horse, landing on the ground before the others.

As he fell, his horse fell with him, and the dozen horses behind him piled up, sending their soldiers hurling to the ground, face first.

Before they could react, Thor placed another stone, reached back and hurled it. Again, his aim was true, and he hit one of the lead warriors in the temple, at the spot exposed from his raised faceplate, and knocked him sideways off his horse, into several other warriors, taking them down like dominoes.

As Thor galloped, a javelin flew by his head, then a spear, then a throwing hammer and a throwing pick, and he knew his Legion brothers were supporting him. Their aim was true, too, and their weapons took down the McCloud soldiers with deadly precision, several of them falling from the horses and crashing into others who fell with them.

Thor was elated to see that they had already managed to take down dozens of McCloud soldiers, some of them with direct hits but most being tripped up by falling horses. The advance contingent of fifty men was now down on the ground, lying in great heaps of dust.

But the McCloud army was strong, and now it was their turn to fight back. As Thor came within thirty yards of them, several threw weapons his way. A throwing hammer came right at his face, and Thor ducked at the last moment, the iron whizzing by his ear, missing by an inch. A spear came flying at him just as quickly and he ducked the other way, as the tip grazed the outside of his armor, luckily just missing him. A throwing pick came right for his face, and Thor raised his shield and blocked it. It stuck to his shield, and Thor reached over, pulled it off, and threw it back at his attacker. Thor’s aim was true, and it lodged in the man’s chest, piercing his chainmail; with a scream the man cried out and slumped over his horse, dead.

Thor kept charging. He charged right into the thick of the army, into a sea of soldiers, prepared to meet his death. He shouted and raised his sword as he did, letting out a great battle cry; behind him, his brothers-in-arms did, too.

With a great clash of arms, there came impact. A huge, full-grown warrior charged for him, raised a two-handed ax, and brought it down for Thor’s head. Thor ducked, the blade swinging by his head and slashed the soldier’s stomach as he rode past; the man screamed out, and slumped over on his horse. As he fell he dropped his battle ax, and it went flying end over end into a McCloud horse, which shrieked and pranced, throwing off his rider into several others.