Morgan Rice: A Clash of Honor

“I do not seek the throne,” Godfrey countered. “I have no wish to rule. Gwendolyn will be the next ruler.”

Gareth snorted down.

“No she will not,” he said “I am ruler. By law. And no words from a boy will change anything.”

“My Lord,” Aberthol interjected, “if this boy is a true witness to an assassination attempt, the law mandates us to hear his testimony and to rule as a Council.”

A thick silence hung in the air, as Gareth scowled back, then finally, shrugged.

“If you want to hear the boy, then hear him,” he said nonchalantly. “Send him forward.”

The boy looked up at Godfrey, and Godfrey nodded back down to him, then gently nudged him. The boy tentatively stepped forward, towards the center of the room, into a shaft of light that shone down from the ceiling. He seemed scared, as he looked up, looking from Aberthol to Gareth.

“Tell us truly boy,” Aberthol said. “What did you witness?”

The boy stood there, hesitating to speak. Then finally, after several long seconds, he called out.

“I saw nothing!”

The room erupted into a shocked gasp.

“What do you mean, boy?” Godfrey yelled down, shocked, outraged. “Tell them what you told me! Tell them what you saw! Do not be afraid. Be honest now!”

The boy looked again at Gareth, who seemed to nod back to him.

“I saw nothing!” the boy yelled out again. “I have nothing to say!”

Godfrey examined the boy with a confused expression, while Gareth smiled, satisfied.

“As you were saying, my beloved brother?” Gareth asked.

Godfrey frowned back at Gareth

“You’ve gotten to the boy somehow!” Godfrey yelled.

Gareth leaned back and laughed.

“You have a useless witness,” Gareth said. “Your pathetic plan to oust me failed. I still sit as true and rightful and lawful King. And there is not a thing you can do about it.”

“Aberthol, you must do something!” Godfrey pleaded. “It is obvious he has gotten to the witness. This boy saw what he saw. My brother tried to kill me!”

Aberthol shook his head sadly.

“I’m afraid that without evidence, the law is the law. Whatever may have happened, Gareth must remain as King without proof to the contrary.”

“You are a liar!” Godfrey screamed out across the hall to Gareth, red-faced, drawing his sword as he bore down on him.

The sound of the sword being drawn echoed throughout the chamber, and as soon as it did, suddenly there came the sound of dozens of swords being drawn, as all of the fierce warriors behind Gareth jumped into action.

The Silver and Legion responded, drawing their swords, too.

There came a tense standoff in the room, rows of soldiers on both sides standing with swords drawn, facing each other. The room was thick with tension.

“The law is on my side,” Gareth said slowly, deliberately. “I can have all of you imprisoned here today, every single one of you.”

“You can only imprison us by the law of King’s Court,” Gwendolyn called out, stepping forward. “But as of today, we are no longer members of King’s Court. None of us. I and this force will leave this place for good. You can sit there and rule unlawfully in our father’s throne, and we will rule in own court, in absentia. And if you try to send men to take me away again, we will consider it an act of war, and I assure you, we will fight back. You have lords loyal to you. We have lords loyal to us, too. As of this day, we no longer serve you. If the Council will not depose you by rightful law, then we shall leave this place and form our own council.”

“You can leave King’s court if you wish,” Gareth said, “but you shall now be known as heretics and traitors. You are breaking the King’s law. If I ever encounter you in the field, I will kill you all. And if you ever come to King’s Court again, you will all be killed.”

Gwendolyn shook her head.

“You are a pathetic human being,” she said. “I curse the day you became my brother. Father looks down at you in disgrace.”

Gareth threw his head back and screamed with laughter.

“Father looks down at no one. He is dead, my dear. Don’t you remember? Someone killed him.”

Gareth screamed and screamed with laughter.

They had all had enough. They turned as one and stormed out the hall, the dozens of them marching away, down the corridor, out of this place. As they prepared to walk out the doors and never see King’s Court again, they were accompanied all the way by the sound of Gareth’s laugher, echoing off the ancient walls.

Erec rode on the forest path, heading north, finally, after all these months, heading back to his home, back to King’s Court, this time, with his new bride-to-be, Alistair. She rode on Warkfin behind him, clutching onto him, as she had been for hours as they entered the thick wood. Erec had not stopped galloping since he’d rescued her from that lord’s castle, wanting to gain as much distance from the place as possible.

Erec recognized this wood: he was now on the outskirts of Savaria, hardly a day’s ride away, and as he rode between the thick trees, he turned and checked back over his shoulder one more time, wanting to make sure they were not being followed. They were not. The horizon sat empty, as it had every time he’d checked that day, and for the first time, as they entered the tree cover, he felt they could relax.

He slowed the horse. Poor Alistair had been gripping his chest for so many hours, he was sure that she could use some rest. And so could he. He was beyond exhausted from the intense battle, and from the non-stop riding. He hadn’t slept in days, and this seemed like a good place to rest.

Erec found a secluded spot, well-sheltered, beside a lake, protected by tall, swaying trees, and he stopped before it and dismounted and held out a hand to help Alistair down. The feel of her hand, of her soft skin, electrified him as he helped her down off the horse; she looked exhausted, but as beautiful and noble as ever. He was thrilled to be by her side after all those days of fighting for her, after all the days of being apart-and after almost losing her. It had been too close of a call. He was ecstatic that he had saved her from an awful fate, and determined that the two of them should never be apart again.

As the two of them stood there, she turned and looked up at him, the waters of the lake reflected in her soulful eyes. She looked back at him with such love and devotion, he felt his heart melt. He knew deep in his bones that he had made the right choice. There was no finer woman he could hope to be with.

“My Lord,” she said, looking down to the ground softly, “I don’t know how to thank you. You saved my life.”

He reached down, placed a finger under her chin, leaned in, and kissed her. They kissed for a long time, and her lips were the smoothest thing he’d ever felt. She leaned in, kissing him firmly, running a hand along his cheek, as he ran a hand along hers. He reached up and brushed back her hair gently, outlining the curve of her beautiful face. He had never seen anyone so beautiful, from any corner of the kingdom, and he could hardly believe his luck to be with her.

“You have nothing to thank me for,” he replied. “It is you who has saved me. You saved me from an empty life, from searching for my love.”

She took his hand and led him to the mossy ground beside the lake. They sat down beside the crystal clear waters, and as the second sun began to set, she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, and he reached over and draped a hand around her shoulder, holding her tight.

“I waited for you every day with bated breath,” she said, “as you competed in your tournaments. When they sold me into slavery, I fought with everything I had. But they were too powerful for me. I cried and cried for days, thinking only of you.”