Morgan Rice - A feast of dragons

He looked at her, and seemed to calm momentarily.

“I am glad to hear a member of the royal family say that,” he said. “It is unfortunate that you are not the one on the throne.”

“There is another member of the royal family you should care about,” she said. “My brother Kendrick sits wallowing in the dungeon. He would be a key asset to your forces. The men love him, and would rally around him. And as a royal family member, he would give you the authority and them the confidence they need to attack.”

He studied her, looking impressed.

“But Kendrick has been imprisoned for murder. For treason.”

Gwen shook her head.

“Lies. All of them. He is innocent. In fact, I have found proof absolving Kendrick of guilt. He was setup by the real murderer.”

Brom looked back at her, wide-eyed.

“And who then is the murderer?” he asked.

“Gareth,” she answered.

Brom’s eyes opened wide in wonder. Finally, he nodded back knowingly.

“We will take care of Gareth when we return from battle,” he said. “In the meantime, you are correct. We will free Kendrick, and he will help lead us in battle. To the dungeons!”

The group of them turned and hurried down the twisting corridors of the castle, their footsteps echoing like thunder. They descended down the spiral staircase, flight after flight, spiraling all the way down, until they reached the lowest level.

Several guards blocked an iron cell door, and they stiffened at attention at the sight of Brom and all The Silver.

“Open this door at once!” Brom commanded.

“My liege,” the guard said, shakily. “I’m afraid I can only open this on royal command.”

“I am commander of the seven legions of the Western kingdom of the Ring!” Brom threatened, resting a hand on his hilt. “I say open this door at once!”

The guards stood there, vacillating, looking at each other, nervous.

Gwen could see a confrontation was about to happen, so she stepped forward in the tense silence and stood between them.

“I am of the royal family,” she said calmly. “My father, bless his memory, was King not long ago. I act with his authority. Open this door.”

The guards looked at each other, then nodded, and slowly reached out and unlocked the door.

Brom and his group marched down to the very end of the corridor and stopped in front of Kendrick’s cell.

Kendrick rushed to it, and pressed his face against the bars, looking pale and gaunt. Gwen felt heartbroken to see him like this, and that she had not been able to free him sooner.

“Open this door,” Gwen commanded the guard, who had accompanied them.

The guard stepped forward and unlocked the cell. The door opened slowly, and out came Kendrick.

Kendrick gave Gwendolyn a big hug, and she hugged him back, tightly.

Kendrick turned and looked at Brom. He saluted, and Brom saluted back.

“The McClouds have attacked,” Brom said. “You will lead one of our forces in battle. We must go at once.”

Kendrick nodded back, somber.

“Sire, it will be an honor.”

“Do you wish to have your squire back?” Thor asked, with a smile.

Kendrick turned and looked at Thor, and his face lit up with a smile.

“I have just returned from the Hundred, sire,” Thor said, “I am ready. And it would be an honor to ride by your side.”

Kendrick reached out and laid a hand on Thor’s shoulder. He looked him up and down, and nodded approvingly.

“I can see that you are. I would have no one else by my side.”

“Let’s move,” Brom said. “It’s past time we teach these McClouds what it means to invade our side of the Ring.”

The group turned and began marching back down the hall.

Soon they were upstairs and marching out the main front doors of the castle. As they exited, standing on Castle Bridge, Thor stopped and faced Gwen.

He looked at her with a look of concern and longing.

“I must join my brothers,” he said guiltily. “I hate to leave you. But I must defend our Ring.”

Deep down, her heart was breaking, but she did not show it. She nodded back.

“I know,” she said, trying to sound strong. “You must go.”

Selfishly she wanted him to stay, but she knew that his going was the right thing.

Thor reached out and touched her necklace, then reached up with the back of his hand and stroked her face. He leaned in and kissed her, and she held it as long as she could.

“I will think of you every minute,” Thor said. “I will return as soon as I can. And when I do, I want to ask you a question.”

Gwen smiled, puzzled.

“What question?”

Thor smiled back.

“It is one, I think, that will change our lives. Depending, of course, on your answer.”

He grabbed her hand, pulled it up and kissed her fingertips, then turned with a smile, and trotted off to join the other men, Krohn following, already running for their horses.

Gwen watched him go with a sense of longing and admiration. She prayed with all she had that she would see him again.

Erec galloped through the back streets of Savaria, racing to the tavern. He was eager to pick up Alistair, to rescue her from this place and to ride off with her. He was exhausted from the day’s battle, covered in bruises and cuts, weak from hunger and thirst-but still, he could think of nothing but her. He could not stop, could not rest, until he had her with him.

Dressed in his chain mail, Erec pulled up before the tavern, jumped off his horse and hurried through the door. It burst open and he walked in expecting to see Alistair there, waiting for him.

But he was baffled to see that she was not. Instead, he saw only the bartender, surly, standing behind the bar. Ten large, seedy types sat at the bar before him.

Erec looked everywhere, but saw no sign of her. The patrons grew quiet, however, and the room grew thick with tension. Erec did not understand what was going on.

The bartender nodded to an attendant, who turned and ran through the door to the back room. A moment later, the innkeeper exited, waltzing out with a swagger, and a crooked smile on his face. Erec did not like the look of this.

“Where is my bride?” he demanded, stepping forward.

The innkeeper strutted out towards him.

“Well well well, look who it is,” he said.

As he marched towards him, Erec noticed several of the burly miscreants get up and follow in behind him.

“If it isn’t the knight in shining armor himself,” the innkeeper mocked.

“I’m not going to ask you again,” Erec said. “Where is she?” he pressed, his anger rising.

The innkeeper’s smile broadened.

“Well, it’s funny you should ask. You see, the large sum of money you handed me gave me an idea. I figured if Alistair was worth something to you, maybe she was worth something to somebody else, too. And I was right. Probably one of the better business deals I’ve made,” he said, licking his lips and laughing, as the men laughed around him.

Erec was seething, turning a shade of purple.

Through clenched teeth, he growled: “This is your last chance. Where-is-she?”

The innkeeper smiled, reveling in the moment.

“Well, it seems she was worth even more to someone else than she was to you. I sold her to a slave trader, willing to buy her for five hundred pence. He had been coming through town, looking for some whores to add to his sex trade. Sorry. You’re too late. But thanks for the idea. And I’ll be keeping your sack of gold anyway, as compensation for insulting my friends the other night.”

The innkeeper stood there, grinning, hands on his hips.

“Now you can be on your way,” he added, “before we all do you more harm than you wish.”