Morgan Rice - A Rite of Swords

“It is no longer the Great Andronicus. Now, it is the Great Romulus.”

As he nodded, from out of the shadows, from all corners of the room, there suddenly appeared two dozen of Romulus’ finest assassins. They rushed forward silently, short swords held high.

The councilmen barely had time to react, to meet death in the face. Romulus’s men came down like a sudden plague and stabbed and hacked to death each and every one of them. Their screams filled the room, the pathetic screams of these pathetic old men, as they all slumped onto the very table where they had tried to pass judgment on Romulus.

Romulus stood there, taking in the sight, holding his hands out at his side, breathing it in like fresh air.

When his men finished, they all snapped back to attention, awaiting his command.

It was a beautiful sight. There was no one left to oppose him in the Empire now. He breathed deep, feeling his power rise. Finally, there were no more obstacles.

There was but one man left in his way, and he would soon meet the wrath of the Great Romulus. Soon he would enter the Ring. And soon, it would all be his.

Reece galloped alongside Conven, O’Connor, Elden, Indra, Serna and Krog, the seven of them racing down narrow trails, up and down hills as they charged through the thick wood, staying out of sight of Andronicus’ main army. Reece knew they had to avoid the bulk of Andronicus’ men if they were to have any chance of getting there safely—and before it was too late. They rode and rode, his arm scratched by branches, avoiding the open plains and meadows that could tip them off. They were cutting through McCloud territory, taking a huge shortcut, and they had been riding hard for hours.

Finally, they broke free of the forest, finding themselves deposited in a rocky, open field, with the Canyon in view on the horizon. Reece’s heart soared in excitement. They had made it.

Reece could smell the ocean air, the sea was but miles beyond the Canyon. As he rode, Elden charged up beside him. He pointed:

“There!” Elden screamed. “The Crossing!”

Reece looked and saw that he was right: there on the horizon, amidst the swirling mists of the Canyon, lay the Eastern Crossing, the massive bridge spanning the Canyon, glistening in the sun. It let travelers out on the Eastern side, and the crossing, once manned with McCloud’s men, now sat empty. Of course it would: all of McCloud’s men were in Andronicus’ service now, and with the Shield back up, there was no need for Andronicus to have the crossing manned. No one else could get in, so there was no one left to defend against.

Reece searched desperately for any sign of the Empire entourage who had taken the sword.

“There!” O’Connor screamed, pointing.

Reece squinted against the sun and saw the entourage of about two dozen Empire warriors, marching under the burden of a huge Boulder, carrying it slowly towards the bridge. They were just setting foot on it.

Reece kicked his horse and screamed, doubling his efforts.

“RIDE!” he screamed. They had caught them in time, but it would still be close. If they crossed to the other side, the Shield would go down for all time. Either way, it was a losing proposition.

They charged and charged, the cold wind whipping Reece’s face, galloping until he was out of breath. Beside him his Legion brothers did the same, all of them feeling the urgency of their mission.

Luckily, the Empire group was slow-moving, weighed down by the boulder, and as they were crossing the bridge, Reece and his men narrowed the gap quickly.

Reece and the others reached the bridge and rode onto it, not slowing, catching up with the Empire men as they were nearly halfway across.

The Empire men heard the commotion, and they all turned and faced Reece and the others, surprised expressions on their faces. They set down the boulder, and prepared to fight.

Reece realized they were badly outnumbered, just the seven of them against twenty-plus hardened Empire warriors. But the Sword was in his sights, and there was no turning back now.

“FIRE!” Reece screamed again.

O’Connor, beside him, fired two arrows, taking down two soldiers, Elden hurled his spear, Indra threw her dagger, and Conven his small throwing axe. They each hit their mark, taking down five of them, narrowing the odds.

Reece charged out in front of the others, drew his sword, and galloped into the thick of the group. He rode between two Empire soldiers and leapt off his horse in mid-air, knocking them both down with his arms.

They all tumbled together to the ground, and Reece landed in a roll, turned, took a knee and slashed each of them both before they had a chance to regain their feet.

His Legion brothers were fighting all around him, hand-to-hand, as the fighting grew fierce. The surprised Empire soldiers seemed wary of losing the Sword, intent on crossing the Canyon with it, and they were distracted in their fighting, huddling around it. They were also clearly exhausted from carrying the boulder so far, giving Reece and his men the advantage.

Reece, fighting for his life, for Thor’s life, for the Sword’s life, and for the life of the Ring, gave it everything he had. He had never fought with such abandon, slashing and stabbing and parrying, and he took down several soldiers, as did Conven beside him, who also battled in a reckless rage. Elden used his sheer strength to overpower them, wielding a battle axe and using his strong legs to kick several soldiers in the chest, onto their backs. O’Connor fired arrow after arrow, most of them finding their mark, and Indra, too, was a force to be reckoned with, weaving in and out of the men and slashing with her dagger. Serna and Krog were an impressive addition to the group, Serna wielding a flail, knocking swords from Empire soldiers’ hands before they attacked, and Krog using his shield as a weapon, blocking blows for others, and smashing soldiers in the face and in the throat, sending them down to the ground. He followed up with his big studded gauntlet, knocking them out for good.

Soon, the odds were even. There stood seven of them against seven of the Empire, all of them covered in blood and breathing hard.

One Empire soldier yelled a command to another, in a language Reece did not understand. He was looking at the Sword and gesturing wildly at it.

That was when Reece realized: he was ordering his fellow soldiers to destroy the Sword.

Reece’s eyes opened wide as he watched three of the largest Empire soldiers hoist the boulder up off the ground with all their might, while the other four circled around them, a wall to defend them.

Reece and the others fought hand-to-hand with the four soldiers, trying to cut their way through to the three soldiers carrying the Sword towards the bridge’s edge. They went blow for blow, clang for clang, but it was not easy—these remaining four soldiers were better than the others, and more determined. They were losing precious time.

Conven charged forward and threw himself onto the lead soldier, tackling him to the ground. It was a move no one had expected, and it turned the tide in their favor. While the other Empire soldiers, distracted, turned to pry Conven off, Reece and the others attacked fearlessly. The seven of them fought as one, overwhelming the four Empire soldiers and killing them on the spot.

Reece, kneeling over a soldier he had just killed, looked up to watch the boulder feet away from the edge. The three Empire soldiers were lifting it, higher and higher, preparing to send it over the railing, to hurl it over the precipice. They already had it sitting on the ledge of the stone railing, teetering, about to be pushed over. In moments the Sword would be lost forever. He could not let that happen.