Morgan Rice: A Vow of Glory

They all were looking to Thor, and he felt ready to lead.

“O’Connor, on my signal, fire. Then we’ll charge for the ones below. Everyone else, use your throwing weapons as we get close. Try to get as close as you can first.”

Thor motioned with his hand, and suddenly, O’Connor released the string.

The arrow sailed through the air with a whooshing noise, and it was a perfect shot, its metal tip piercing the heart of the Empire soldier on the bow. The soldier stood there, his eyes opening wide for a moment, as if he did not understand what was happening, then he suddenly stretched his arms out wide and fell forward, face-first, in a swan dive, landing with a splat on the beach at the feet of his fellow soldiers, the sand staining red.

Thor and the others charged, a well-oiled machine in sync with each other. The sound of their horses’ galloping gave them away, and the six other soldiers turned and faced them. The soldiers mounted their horses and charged back, preparing to meet them in the middle.

Thor and his men still had the advantage of surprise. Thor reached back and hurled a stone with his sling and hit one of them in the temple from twenty yards away as he was in the midst of mounting his horse. He fell back off of it, dead, the reigns still in his hands.

As they neared, Reece threw his axe, Elden his spear, and the twins each their daggers. The sands were uneven and the horses slipped, making throwing the weapons harder than usual. Reece’s axe found its mark, killing one of them, but the others missed.

That left four of them. The lead one broke out from the group, charging right for Reece, who was weaponless; he had cast his axe but not had time to draw his sword yet. Reece braced himself, and at the last second Krohn leapt forward, bit the soldier’s horse in the leg, and the horse collapsed, its rider falling down to the ground and sparing Reece at the last moment.

Reece drew his sword and stabbed the soldier, killing him before he could regain his feet.

That left three. One of them came for Elden with an axe, swinging for his head; Elden blocked it with his shield, and in the same motion swung his sword and chopped the axe handle in half. Elden then swung around with his shield and smashed the attacker in the side of the head, knocking him from his horse.

Another soldier pulled a flail from his waist and swung its long chain, the spiked end suddenly coming down for O’Connor. It happened too fast, and there was no time for O’Connor to react.

Thor saw it coming and charged forward, to his friend’s side, raised his sword and slashed the chain of the flail, before it hit O’Connor. There came the sound of sword cutting through iron, Thor marveling at how sharp his new sword was. The spiked ball went flying down harmlessly to the ground, lodging in the sand, saving O’Connor’s life. Conval then rode up and stabbed the soldier with a spear, killing him.

The final Empire soldier saw he was badly outnumbered; fear in his eyes, he suddenly turned and took off, racing down shore, his horse’s prints leaving deep impressions in the sand.

They all set their sights on the retreating soldier: Thor hurled a stone with his sling, O’Connor raised his bow and fired, and Reece hurled a spear. But the soldier rode too erratically, the horse dipping in the sand, and they all missed.

Elden drew his sword and Thor could see that he was about to charge after him. Thor held out a hand and motioned for him to stay put.

“Don’t!” Thor screamed.

Elden turned and looked at him.

“If he lives, he will send others after us!” Elden protested.

Thor turned and looked back at the boat, and knew it would take precious time to hunt him down—time they could not afford.

“The Empire will come after us no matter what,” Thor said. “We haven’t time to lose. What is most important now is that we get far from here. To the ship!”

They dismounted as they reached the ship and Thor reached into his saddle and began to empty it of all its provisions as the others did the same, loading up on weapons and on sacks of food and water. Who knew how long the ship ride would take, how long it would be until they saw land again— if they saw land again. Thor also loaded up on food for Krohn.

They threw the sacks up high over the railing of the boat, landing on the deck above with a thump.

Thor grabbed the thick, knotted rope hanging over the side, the coarse rope cutting into his hands, and tested it. He draped Krohn over his shoulder, the weight of them both testing his muscles, and pulled up towards the deck. Krohn whined in his ear, hugging his chest with his sharp claws, clinging to him.

Soon Thor was over the railing, Krohn leaping off of him onto the deck—and the others following close behind. Thor leaned over and looked down at the horses on the beach, looking up as if awaiting a command.

“And what of them?” Reece asked, coming up beside him.

Thor turned and surveyed the boat: it was maybe twenty feet long and half as wide. It was big enough for the seven of them—but not for their horses. If they tried to take them, the horses might trample the wood, damage the boat. They had to leave them behind.

“We have no choice,” Thor said, looking down longingly at them. “We’ll have to find new ones.”

O’Connor leaned over the rail.

“They’re smart horses,” O’Connor said. “I trained them well. They will return home upon my command.”

O’Connor whistled sharply.

As one, the horses turned and bolted, racing across the sand and disappearing into the forest, heading back towards the Ring.

Thor turned and looked at his brothers, at the ship, at the sea before them. Now they were stranded, with no horses, with no choice but to move forward. Reality was sinking in. They were truly alone, with nothing but this boat, and about to part from the shores of the Ring for good. Now there was no turning back.

“And how are we supposed to get this boat into the water?” Conval asked, as they all looked down, fifteen feet below, at the hull of the boat. A small portion of it was in the lapping waves of the Tartuvian, but most of it was lodged firmly in the sand.

“Over here!” Conven said.

They hurried to the other side of the boat and there was a thick iron chain dangling over the edge, at the bottom of which was an immense iron ball, sitting on the sand.

Conven reached down and yanked on the chain. He groaned and struggled, but could not lift it.

“It’s too heavy,” he grunted.

Conval and Thor hurried over and helped, and as the three of them grabbed the chain and pulled, Thor was shocked by its weight: even with the three of them pulling, they could only lift it a few feet. Finally, they all dropped it, and it fell back down to the sand.

“Let me help,” Elden said, stepping forward.

With his huge bulk, Elden towered over them, and he reached down by himself and yanked on the chain, and managed to lift the ball into the air alone. Thor was amazed. The others jumped in and they all pulled, as one, yanking the anchor up one foot at a time, and finally over the railing and onto the deck.

The boat started to move, rocking a little bit in the waves, but it was still lodged in the sand.

“The polls!” Reece said.

Thor turned and saw two wooden poles, nearly twenty feet long, mounted along the sides of the boat, and he realized what they were for. He ran over with Reece and grabbed one, while Conval and Conven grabbed the other.

“When we shove off,” Thor screamed out, “you all raise the sails!”

They leaned over and jabbed the poles into the sand and pushed with all their might; Thor groaned from the effort. Slowly, the boat began to move, just the tiniest bit. At the same time, Elden and O’Connor ran to the middle of the boat and pulled the ropes to raise the canvas sails, raising them with effort, one foot at a time. Luckily there was a strong breeze, and as Thor and the others shoved and shoved against the shore, struggling with all they had to get this surprisingly heavy boat out of the sand, the sails raised higher, and began to catch the wind.