Morgan Rice - A Vow of Glory

Kendrick thought of the closing gates, and only hoped that it was not too late.

Gwendolyn stood atop a small hill outside the outer gate of Silesia, waiting, watching, her heart pounding. She had been scrutinizing the horizon for hours, praying for any sign of Kendrick as they counted down the hours, the minutes, until she would have to seal the gates.

“My lady,” Steffen said, still standing loyally beside her, “you must retreat into the city! Waiting out here for Kendrick won’t make him come faster—and it will only jeopardize your safety. Please: retreat to within our walls.”

Gwendolyn shook her head.

“I cannot wait within the safety of our walls while he risks his life out there.”

“But my lady, your people need you. They look to you.”

“They also look to me as an example,” she said, “of fearlessness. In war, that has merit, too.”

“Well then if you won’t go back inside, neither will I,” he said.

Steffen fell silent, and the two of them continued to stand and watch.

Gwendolyn knew he was right, knew it was only a matter of time until she would have to order the outer gates sealed. Her heart was breaking inside.

She began to detect a distant rumbling, and her heart pounded as she looked up to see the entire horizon covered in black. More troops than she had ever seen in her life were stretched out before her, thousands and thousands of them, seeming to stretch across the entire world. In their center rode two dozen flag-bearers, waving the Empire colors high above their heads, and hundreds of trumpets sounded.

“My lady, we are out of time!” shouted Srog, riding up beside her with a dozen troops. “We must seal the gates!”

Gwen looked over her shoulder and saw her men, hundreds of them, anxiously preparing, taking up positions, spread out along the parapets. She then turned and looked back at the horizon. Reality was sinking in: here, at last, was Andronicus. And yet, still, there was no sign of Kendrick and Atme. Her heart fell. Had he been killed? She had never known him to be unsuccessful. How could it be? she wondered. Kendrick was their finest knight. If he had been killed, then what hope was there for any of them?

Gwen cursed herself for allowing him to go. She should have ordered him to stay put. She loved that he lived by his vow of honor—but in this case, chivalry had led to his death.

“My lady, you cannot stand here anymore!” Steffen yelled, and she could hear the agitation in his voice.

Gwendolyn knew the time had come. The army was getting closer, and in moments there would be no chance for her to enter her own city walls. But she just could not bring herself to. Not until she knew for sure that her brother did not make it.

“My lady!” Brom urged, standing beside Srog. “If we wait any longer, our men will die!”

Suddenly, a small cloud of dust caught Gwendolyn’s eye, off to the side; she turned, and on a small side road there, her heart was elated to see, rode Kendrick and Atme, carrying the two girls on their horses. They galloped towards them, outpacing the army, faster, and closer. They had a good hundred yards lead on them, and Gwen’s heart soared to see them alive again.

They had made it. She could hardly believe it. They had made it!

Gwendolyn felt a huge weight lifted off her heart as she turned, mounted her horse, and began riding back for the open gates of Silesia, Steffen, Srog, Brom and dozens of soldiers accompanying her. As they went, more and more troops, waiting patiently for her, filled in behind them, and together they all raced back through the outer gates. As they did, dozens of men, waiting, began to close the massive iron gates from both sides.

They raced through just in time, the gate only left opened a few feet for them, and after they did, Kendrick and Atme, just feet behind her, raced through, too. The second they did, the heavy metal slammed behind them.

They continued riding, through the inner gates, and as they did, a second spiked iron gate slammed behind them.

As Gwendolyn rushed into the inner court, all around her, thousands of troops were rushing into position, chaos everywhere, the energy in the air frantic, the anticipation palpable.

“SOUND THE ALARMS!” she screamed, and as soon as she did, a chorus of horns erupted all around her.

Citizens ran to their homes and barred windows and doors, the courtyard emptying. Once inside, most rushed to their upper windows, leaving them open just a crack, to look out over the square, and to hold bows and arrows at the ready. Every last Silesian man, woman and child, Gwen knew, was prepared to join in and fight to the death here.

Her heart flooded with relief as Kendrick rode up beside her, he and Atme handing the sick girls to their mother, who embraced them with tears of joy, sobbing. She grabbed Kendrick’s leg.

“Thank you,” she said. “I will never be able to repay you.”

Gwendolyn and Kendrick dismounted and embraced.

“You’re alive,” she said over his shoulder, so happy, and wishing for Thor to have the same fate, too. “And you saved their lives.”

Kendrick smiled.

“There are many more to save,” he replied.

Gwen had no time to respond, because suddenly, there came a horrific slamming against the outer gate, so fierce, it shook the entire city.

Kendrick took up his position with the rest of the Silver, while Gwendolyn ran, Steffen at her side, up the winding stone steps to the top of the inner parapet, wanting to get the best view.

As Gwen looked down there came another tremendous crash, and she was shocked by what she saw: Andronicus’ army swarmed outside the city, and dozens of soldiers, in a coordinated charge, rammed their shields into the outer gate, putting their shoulders into it.

That was all just the prelude: these men stepped aside, and there came rolling forward a long, thick iron battering ram, on wheels, manned by two dozen men. They rushed forward, gained traction, and as Gwendolyn watched in horror, they rammed the outer gate, denting it, shaking the walls, and making some of the stone around her crumble.

“Awaiting your command!” Srog said, standing beside her.

“NOW!” she said.

“ARCHERS!” screamed Srog.

Up and down the parapets, archers pulled back on their bows, and found slots through every nook and cranny in the stone walls, taking aim below.

“FIRE!”

The sky turned black with the rain of arrows, thousands of them sailing through the air, finding targets below in the exposed Empire soldiers.

Screams rose up, as dozens of Empire troops keeled over on the ground, dead.

But Andronicus’ army was well-disciplined: hundreds of soldiers took a knee, lined up in perfect rows, and fired right back up at the walls.

Gwendolyn stood there, amazed, her first time in the midst of a real battle, and she didn’t even think to react. She felt a strong hand grab her shirt and yank her down, slamming her against the stone. She felt the breeze of an arrow as it sailed through the air, just missing her head, and looked over to see Steffen lying on the ground beside her. She lay there, her heart pounding, realizing how stupid she had been not to get down sooner, as all the other men around her had done. Steffen, once again, had saved her life.

Not everyone had been so fortunate. A boy, hardly older than Thor, stood a few feet away from her, staring down at the men, as if in shock, an arrow through his throat. He stood a second more, then toppled over the edge of the parapet and fell down onto the heap of bodies, fifty feet below.

“ARCHERS!” Srog screamed again.

Again, the Silesians took up their bows, re-strung, and fired down at the Empire.

More screams rang up, and more Empire troops fell.