Morgan Rice - A Clash of Honor

The mother stroked her boy’s hair, squatted down, and kissed him on the forehead.

“Blaine, if you didn’t see anything, don’t be afraid. We don’t need this gold.”

But the father marched over sternly and grabbed Blaine by the chin.

“Blaine, these men believe you know something. That money can change our family’s life forever. If you have something to say, say it. Remember, I have taught you to always speak the truth. Do not be like your bother. Go on now. Be a man. You’ve nothing to fear.”

Blaine swallowed nervously, then finally looked up at Godfrey.

“I was with Clayforth the other night,” Blaine said. “A man we had never seen before came up to him. He knew that Clayforth was a runner, for the den, and he asked him if he would put poison in a man’s drink. At first my brother said no. But then he showed him gold-more gold than even you have here. He still said no. But he kept showing him more and more gold. And then he gave in.”

Blaine took a deep breath.

“You must understand,” he added, “my brother had never done anything like that before. But the money-it was too much for him to turn down. He said it would change our lives forever and that we’d never have to come back to this part of town. He wanted to buy mamma and papa a new house somewhere clean and safe.”

“Did you see this man’s face?” Godfrey asked.

The boy nodded, slowly.

“He was a tall man. Taller than any man I’d ever seen. And he was missing a tooth.”

“On the right side?” Godfrey asked.

The boy nodded, his eyes opened wide. “How did you know?”

Godfrey knew, all too well. It was Afget, Gareth’s new attack dog. There was no one else who fit that description. And now he had a witness. He had a witness that proved that Gareth’s man attempted assassination on him, the King’s son. It was grounds to have him deposed. It was the proof they needed.

“I need your son to be a witness,” Godfrey said to his father. “What he witnessed is of importance not just to me, but to the kingdom itself, to all of King’s court. To the entire Ring. I need him to testify. It will make amends for his brother trying to take my life. None of you will be in danger. You will all be protected, I guarantee it. You can keep all this gold and more.”

A thick silence hung over the room, as they all turned to the boy.

“Blaine, it is your choice,” the father said.

Blaine looked Godfrey up and down, then looked at his parents.

“Do you promise my parents will be safe?” Blaine asked Godfrey. “And that they can keep all the gold?”

Godfrey smiled.

“All of this and more,” he reassured. “And yes, you have my word. You will all be safer than you’ve ever been.”

Finally, Blaine shrugged.

“Then I don’t see why not. After all, like you said, papa, it never hurts to tell the truth.”

Thor galloped back across the desert, getting farther which each step from his hometown, from memories of his encounter with his father-or, rather, the man who had raised him. It had been a life-changing trip, both dreadful and inspiring. The encounter had been painful, yet it had also finally given him the clarity he had always sought. His entire life he had suspected that he was different from his father, from his brothers, from his village; that he didn’t belong there; that some great secret about his past was being hidden from him; that he was destined for something, some place, greater.

Now, finally, after hearing everything his father had to say-that he was not really his father, that those were not really his brothers-that his mother was alive-that he was truly different-it all made perfect sense. Despite the troubling confrontation, he finally felt a sense of ease, deeper than he’d ever felt in his life. He was finally beginning to peel back the layers of the mystery of his true identity, to understand more of who he was.

Thor kept turning over in his mind all the things his father said. He was overjoyed to know that his mother was alive, that she cared for him; he could feel her necklace against his bare throat even as he rode, and the feeling comforted him, made him feel as if his mother were right there with him. He could feel an intense energy radiating off of it, and it filled his whole being. She really cared for him. He could sense that. And she wanted to see him. That meant more to him than anything. He was more determined than ever to find her.

But then he couldn’t help wonder: if she cared so much for him, why had she given him away to begin with? And why to that man who raised him, and why in that village?

Another question perplexed him even more: who, then, was his real father? The mystery baffled him. Now, not only did he not know who his mother was, but he did not know who his real father was, either. It could be anyone. Was he a Druid, too? Did he live in the Ring? And why had his father abandoned him, too?

Thor felt the ring his mother had given him sitting snug in his inner shirt pocket, and his mind turned to thoughts of Gwendolyn. More than ever, he knew she was the one. He sensed that this ring had come into his life now for a reason, that he was meant to give it to her. He couldn’t wait to return and ask her to be his-and if she said yes, to place it on her finger. It was the most beautiful ring he had ever seen, and the idea of her accepting it thrilled him.

Thor kicked his horse, eager to return to his Legion brothers as the second sun fell in the sky. He wanted to finish the rebuilding and get back to King’s Court and see Gwen, see Krohn again. He wanted to return to the House of Scholars, to study the map more deeply, and to figure out how he might journey to the Land of the Druids. He had to see his mother. And he had to know who his father was.

Thor felt a sense of sadness as he thought of the man who had raised him. Growing up he had thought the world of him-but the man was nothing to him now. It took so many years for Thor to reach this day, to finally get clarity. He was also, at the same time, beginning to feel a new sense of self-worth. Since this man was not his father, what he thought or how he felt about Thor didn’t really matter. He was just a stranger. Thor now felt free to come to his own conclusions about how he felt about himself. At the same time, he could seek out his true father-and that man, Thor hoped, might be a great man, which would make Thor feel an even greater sense of pride in himself. And that man might actually love him for who he is, might be proud of all he had accomplished.

As Thor raced across the wasteland, nearing the village, his horse suddenly pulled hard to the left, surprising him. Thor tried to pull him back on course, but he refused to listen. He brought Thor off course, and as they rounded a small hill, Thor discovered a gurgling stream, cutting through the wasteland, its glowing blue waters contrasting with the yellow desert floor. The horse ran right up to the stream and Thor had no choice but to dismount as it lowered its head to drink.

He must have been thirsty, Thor realized. Yet still, it was strange behavior-his horse was usually obedient. Thor was beginning to wonder if the horse led him to this spot for a reason, when suddenly he heard a voice:

“Sometimes the truth is a heavy thing to bear.”

Thor knew the voice, and he turned slowly, overcome with relief to see Argon standing there, in his robes, holding his staff, his eyes shining right at him. He almost looked like an apparition against the desolate wasteland.

“That man was not my father,” Thor said. “You knew all this time. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Argon shook his head.

“It was not for me to tell.”

“And who then is my father?”