Morgan Rice - A Clash of Honor

And when Andronicus finished destroying the McClouds, he would then turn to his real target: the MacGils. Once inside the Ring, he would cross the Highlands, bring his million man army to MacGil’s front step, and wipe out any memory there ever was of King’s Court. When he was through, it would be a distant memory, a pile of rubble. He could already see the smoke and ashes and fumes in his mind’s eye, could already see the MacGil land, once so choice, nothing but a desolate ruin, a sign for all those who dared to fight him. The thought made him smile.

Andronicus charged, not pausing any longer to terrorize this village, but focusing instead on the looming Canyon. His men caught up, charging beside them, and they raced across this desolate wasteland, populated with random McCloud villages, foolish frontiersman who had been dumb enough to live outside the Canyon. It served them right. They should have lived inside the Canyon. Did they all really think they would be safe here forever from the reach of the great Andronicus?

They rode west for hours, getting closer to the Canyon, ravaging several more villages along the way. As the second sun grew long in the sky, finally, they rounded a hilltop, and Andronicus saw it: the great Canyon. It was as awe-inspiring now as it was when he had seen it as a boy. It perplexed him to no end, this wonder of the world, with its magic energy shield which had kept his people at bay from the Ring for generations. It was the one place left on the planet that his army could not breach, and it vexed him to no end.

Now, finally, he had the information he needed to cross it. He would accomplish what all of his ancestors before him had failed to do. He would enter the one last untouched, pristine part of the planet, and have his men soil every inch of it. He would crush it until it was entirely under his dominion. He could already savor the rush of power he would feel when he was done. There would be no place left on the planet he had not conquered.

Andronicus’s men rode up beside him and they all stopped as they finally reached the edge of the Canyon. They dismounted, and Andronicus took several steps forward, looking down at the vast divide. It was enormous, awe-inspiring, even for him, who had been everywhere in the world, who had seen everything, every natural wonder. This one was unique. An eerie, yellow mist hung in the Canyon, which seemed to stretch forever, and even from here Andronicus could feel the great energy force of the shield. He reached up a hand, into the air, towards the edge, and held it there. He knew that it was protected by an invisible wall and that if he extended his hand any further it would eviscerate him. It was like an invisible bubble blocking them out.

If it weren’t for the shield, he and his men could simply kill the McCloud warriors stationed on the bridge of the Eastern Crossing, or hike to the bottom of it, or build their own bridge. He imagined a thousand ways they could breach it. But he remembered when they had tried in the past, when they had set up camp for a full moon cycle, and had tried every imaginable way. Each time, as soon as they crossed the threshold, the energy shield eviscerated them, killing his men instantly and leaving no way to cross it.

This time would be different.

“Bring him to me,” Andronicus snarled, not looking back as he held out a hand, unraveling his three long claws.

Moments later his men hurried forward, and he saw the McCloud prisoner, bound, squirming, fear in his eyes, as they pushed him to Andronicus’ grip. Andronicus reached out and grabbed him with his three claws by his shirt, and pulled him close.

“Now is your chance, human,” he said to him. “You vowed to show us how to breach the Canyon. We are here. What is it?”

The human stood there, wide-eyed, looking from McCloud down into the abyss of the Canyon, shaking. Andronicus started to sense something wrong, and he did not like what he was sensing.

“I’m sorry,” the human yelled out. “I lied! I have no idea how to cross it. I just wanted to get out of jail. You had me down there so many years. I couldn’t stand it. I was desperate. I would say anything. I’m sorry!” he said, weeping. “I’m sorry!”

Andronicus looked down at this human with disbelief; then his disbelief changed to fury, a fury deeper than any he had ever felt. He had been tricked. By a human. He had rallied his entire army, had crossed the Ambrek sea, had looked forward to and reveled in this moment-all to be lied to by a pathetic little human.

Andronicus let out a unearthly shriek, and reached over, picked the human up high above his head, and using his incredible strength, he tore him in half. Blood squirted everywhere, all over Andronicus’ head and face, down his chest, as the human, torn into halves, shrieked and shrieked. He was still alive, the two halves of his body still squirming, as Andronicus reached back and threw them, hurling the body parts into the abyss of the Canyon.

The human shrieked as the two halves of his body tumbled end over end-but then all grew silent, as his body eviscerated as it crossed the invisible line of the energy shield. He disintegrated into ashes.

Andronicus leaned back and shrieked, a shriek of despair, of frustration, one that shook the entire kingdom of the Ring. He would find a way in, if it was the last thing he had to do.

Thor walked with Gwendolyn on the path leading out of King’s Court, through the arched Northern Gate, and onto the road that led towards the Kolvian cliffs, Krohn walking happily beside them. It had been a whirlwind since they had left the Hall of Arms, and Thor was still trying to process everything that had happened. There was the shock of Gareth’s new fighting force, loyal to him only; the shock of the Silver splintering off, having to stay in the regular army barracks; the divide between the kingdom, which he could feel growing greater over time; the traitor, Forg; Gwen being named the next ruler if Gareth should fall; and most of all, the Nevaruns who had arrived to try to steal Gwen away. Thor tried not to think of what might have happened if he and the other men hadn’t had been there when they had arrived. Would Gwen be gone from him even now? Was there no low to which her brother Gareth would not stoop to send her away?

Thor was so grateful that he had been there to stop them, and so grateful he’d had the support of his fellow soldiers. He felt so proud of her that they all wanted her to rule, and indeed, he felt that there would be no better ruler than her.

But he also felt that their time together was precious now, with the Legion preparing to be dispatched again to help rebuild the towns ravaged by the McCloud raid. He knew it was only a matter of time until he was summoned, sent forth with the others, and he wanted every minute he could have with Gwen.

Most of all, there was the question that still burned front and center in his mind: would she marry him? As they walked through the fields, making their way slowly past the cliffs, hand in hand, Thor’s heart was pounding, his throat dry. He was ready to ask her; he wanted to ask her; and at every turn, he asked himself if this was a good place to ask the question that would change their lives forever. He felt ashamed that he did not have a jewel or a ring or anything of worth to give her; all he had was his love. And he was still afraid that she might say no. Then what would become of their relationship? Was he over-reaching? Did she still think that he was beneath her somehow? Did she ever truly believe that?

Thor wanted to think that she did not, that she would say yes, but a part of him was still unsure.

Still, the time had come to ask, and at every turn, he wanted to. But he just could not tell when the perfect moment was.