Morgan Rice - A Rule of Queens

Godfrey drank again, hating himself for being chivalrous; he decided he loved life, loved survival, more than courage—and yet somehow, he could not stop himself from doing these acts. He marched, sullen, trying to drown out the endless banter of Akorth and Fulton, who hadn’t stopped talking since they’d left.

“I know what I would do with a brothel of Empire women,” Akorth said. “I would teach them the pleasures of the Ring.”

“You would teach them nothing,” Fulton countered. “You would be too drunk, you wouldn’t even make it to their beds.”

“And you?” Akorth countered. “Would you not be drunk?”

Fulton chuckled.

“Aye, I would be drunk enough to know not to enter a brothel of Empire women!” he said, breaking into laughter at his own joke.

“Do those two ever stop?” Merek asked Godfrey, coming up beside him, an exasperated look on his face. “We are walking into death, and they take it all so lightheartedly.”

“No, they don’t,” Godfrey said. He sighed. “Look at the bright side. I’ve had to put up with them my whole life; you will only have to put up with them for a few more hours. By then we should all be dead.”

“I don’t know if I can stand a few hours more,” Merek said. “Perhaps volunteering on this mission was a bad idea.”

“Perhaps?” Akorth scoffed. “My boy, you have no idea how bad it was.”

“How did you think you could contribute anyway?” Fulton added. “A thief? What are you going to do, steal Empire hearts?”

Akorth and Fulton broke into laughter, and Merek reddened.

“A thief is quick with a hand, quicker than you’ll ever be,” he replied darkly, “and it takes far less to slit someone’s throat.” He looked right at Akorth, meaningfully, as he began to pull his blade from his waist.

Akorth raised his hands, looking terrified.

“I meant you no insult, boy,” he said.

Slowly, Merek put his knife back in his belt, and he calmed as they continued marching, Akorth more quiet this time.

“Quick temper, have you?” Fulton asked. “That is good in battle. But not among friends.”

“And who said we are friends?” Merek asked.

“I think you need a drink,” Akorth said.

Akorth handed him the flask, a truce offering, but Merek ignored it.

“I don’t drink,” Merek said.

“Don’t drink?” Fulton said. “A thief who doesn’t drink!? We are truly doomed.”

Akorth took a long swig himself.

“I want to hear that story—” Akorth began, but he was cut off by a soft voice.

“I would stop there if I were you.”

Godfrey looked over and was surprised to see the boy, Ario, stopping short in the path. Godfrey was impressed by the boy’s poise, his calm, as he stood there, looking out at the trail. He peered into the woods as if spotting something ominous.

“Why have we stopped?” Godfrey asked.

“And why are we listening to a boy?” Fulton asked.

“Because this boy is your best and last hope to navigate the Empire lands,” Ario said calmly. “Because if you hadn’t listened to this boy, and had taken three more steps, you would be sitting in an Empire torture chamber shortly.”

They all stopped and looked at him, baffled, and the boy reached down, grabbed a rock, and threw it before the trail. It landed a few feet in front of them and Godfrey watched, stunned, as a huge net suddenly shot up into the air, hidden under the leaves, hoisted by branches. A few more feet, Godfrey realized, and they all would have been trapped.

They looked at the boy in amazement, and with a new respect.

“If a boy is to be our savior,” Godfrey said, “then we are in bigger trouble than I thought. Thank you,” he said to him. “I owe you one. I will give you one of those bags of gold, if we have any left.”

Ario shrugged and continued walking, not looking in them, saying, “Gold means nothing to me.”

The others exchanged a glance of wonder. Godfrey had never seen anyone so nonchalant, so stoic in the face of danger. He began to realize how lucky he was that the boy had joined them.

They all marched and marched, Godfrey’s legs shaking, and he wondered if this sorry group would ever reach the gates.

By the time his legs were trembling with exhaustion, the sun was high in the sky, and Godfrey had emptied a second sack of wine. Finally, after so many hours of marching, Godfrey saw up ahead the end of the tree line. And beyond that, past a clearing, he saw a wide paved road and the most massive city gate he had ever seen.

The gates of Volusia.

Before it stood dozens of Empire soldiers, dressed in the finest armor and spiked helmets, the black and gold of the empire, wielding halberds, standing erect and staring straight ahead. They guarded a massive drawbridge, and the entrance lay a good fifty feet before Godfrey and the others.

They all stood there, hidden at the edge of the forest, staring, and Godfrey could feel all the others turn and look to him.

“Now what?” Merek said. “What is your plan?”

Godfrey gulped.

“I don’t have one,” he answered.

Merek’s eyes widened.

“You don’t have a plan?” Ario said, indignant. “Why did you volunteer for this then?”

Godfrey shrugged.

“I wish I knew,” he said. “Stupidity, mostly. Maybe a bit of boredom thrown in.”

They all groaned as they looked at him, furious, then looked back at the gate.

“You mean to tell me,” Merek said, “that you’ve brought us the most guarded city in the empire with no plan whatsoever?”

“What did you mean to do,” the boy asked, “just walk through the gates?”

Godfrey thought back on all the foolhardy things he had done in his life, and he realized this was probably close to the top. He wished he could think clearly to remember them all, but his head was spinning from all the drink.

Finally, he belched and replied:

“That is exactly what I mean to do.”

Reece opened his eyes slowly, feeling groggy from the red vapor drifting in and out of this place, and he looked around in the darkness of the cave. He realized he had fallen asleep, still sitting up with his back to the cave wall; before him he saw the small glowing fire emerging from the stone floor, and he wondered how long they had slept here.

Reece looked about and saw Thorgrin, Matus, Conven, O’Connor, Elden, and Indra all spread out around him, all still lying by the fire. Gently, he leaned over and prodded them, and they woke slowly, one at a time.

Reece’s head felt like it weighed a million pounds as he struggled to his hands and knees, then to his feet. He felt as if he’d slept a hundred years. He turned and peered into the blackness as he heard a soft moaning noise, echoing off the walls, but he could not tell where it was coming from. He felt as if he had been down here, in this land of the dead, forever, as if he’d been down here longer than he’d been alive.

Yet Reece had no regrets. He was by his brother’s side, and there was no place else he’d rather be. Thor was his best friend, and Reece drew strength from Thor’s refusal to back down from a challenge, from his determination to find and rescue his son. He would follow him to the very bowels of hell

It had not been long since Reece had been there himself, to that place of suffering, of grieving over a loved one. He lived with his loss of Selese every day, and he understood what Thorgrin was going through. It was the strangest thing; being down here, Reece felt closer to Selese than ever, felt a strange sense of peace. As he thought of it, he remembered he had been awakened by a dream of her. He could still see her face, smiling at him, waking him.