A March of Kings. Morgan Rice

head out the window, brace both palms on the windowsill, and look around with a puzzled expression.

      Thor stood, darting out several steps away from the wall, and waved one arm high.

      Reece looked down and noticed him. Reece’s face lit up in recognition, visible in the torchlight even from here, and, Thor was relieved to see joy on his face. That told him all he needed to know: Reece would not turn him in.

      Reece signaled for him to wait, and Thor hurried back to the wall, squatting low just as a guard turned his way.

      Thor waited for he did not know how long, ready at any moment to flee from the guards, until finally Reece appeared, bursting through a door in the outer wall, breathing hard as he looked both ways and spotted Thor.

      Reece hurried over and embraced him. Thor was overjoyed. He heard a squeaking, and looked down to see, to his delight, Krohn, bundled up in Reece’s shirt. Krohn nearly jumped out of the shirt as Reece reached down and handed him to Thor.

      Krohn – the ever-growing white leopard cub Thor had once rescued – leapt into Thor’s arms as Thor hugged him back, whining and squealing and licking Thor’s face.

      Reece smiled.

      “When they took you away, he tried to follow you, and I took him to make sure he was safe.”

      Thor clasped Reece’s forearm in appreciation. Then he laughed, as Krohn kept licking him.

      “I missed you too, boy,” Thor laughed, kissing him back. “Quiet now, or the guards will hear us.”

      Krohn quieted, as if he understood.

      “How did you escape?” Reece asked, surprised.

      Thor shrugged. He did not quite know what to say. He still felt uncomfortable speaking about his powers, which he did not understand. He didn’t want others to think of him as some kind of freak.

      “I got lucky I guess,” he responded. “I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

      “I’m amazed a mob did not tear you apart,” Reece said.

      “It’s dark,” Thor said. “I don’t think anyone recognized me. Not yet, anyway.”

      “Do you know that every soldier in the kingdom is looking for you? Do you know that my father has been stabbed?”

      Thor nodded, serious. “Is he okay?”

      Reece’s face fell.

      “No,” he answered, grim. “He is dying.”

      Thor felt devastated, as if it were his own father.

      “You know I had nothing to do with it, don’t you?” Thor asked, hopeful. He didn’t care what anyone else thought, but he needed his best friend, MacGil’s youngest son, to know that he was innocent.

      “Of course,” Reece said. “Or else I would not be standing here.”

      Thor felt a wave of relief, and clasped Reece on the shoulder gratefully.

      “But the rest of the kingdom will not be so trusting as I,” Reece added. “The safest place for you is far from here. I will give you my fastest horse, a pack of supplies, and send you far away. You must hide until this all dies down, until they find the true killer. No one is thinking clearly now.”

      Thor shook his head.

      “I cannot leave,” he said. “That would make me seem guilty. I need others to know I did not do this. I cannot run from my troubles. I must clear my name.”

      Reece shook his head.

      “If you stay here, they’ll find you. You’ll get imprisoned again – and then executed – if not killed by a mob first.”

      “That is a chance I must take,” Thor said.

      Reece stared at him long and hard, and his look changed from one of concern to one of admiration. Finally, slowly, he nodded.

      “You are proud. And stupid. Very stupid. That is why I like you.”

      Reece smiled. Thor smiled back.

      “I need to see your father,” Thor said. “I need to have a chance to explain to him, face-to-face, that it wasn’t me, that I had nothing to do with it. If he decides to sentence me, then so be it. But I need one chance. I want him to know. That is all I ask of you.”

      Reece stared back earnestly, summing up his friend. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he nodded.

      “I can get you to him. I know a back way. It leads to his chamber. It’s risky – and once you’re in, you will be on your own. There is no way out. There will be nothing I can do for you then. It could mean your death. Are you sure you want to take that chance?”

      Thor nodded back with deadly seriousness.

      “Very well then,” Reece said, and suddenly reached down and threw a cloak at Thor.

      Thor caught it and looked down in surprise; he realized Reece must have planned for this all along.

      Reece smiled as Thor looked up.

      “I knew you’d be dumb enough to want to stay. I’d expect nothing less from my best friend.”

      Chapter Four

      Gareth paced his chamber, reliving the events of the night, flooded with anxiety. He couldn’t believe what had happened at the feast, how it had all gone so wrong. He could hardly comprehend that stupid boy, that outsider Thor, had somehow caught onto his poison plot – and even more, had managed to actually intercept the goblet. Gareth thought back to that moment when he saw Thor jump up, knock down the goblet, when he heard the goblet hit the stone, watched the wine spill out on the floor, and saw all his dreams and aspirations spill out with it.

      In that moment, Gareth had been ruined. Everything he’d lived for had been crushed. And when that dog lapped up the wine and dropped dead – he knew he was finished. He saw his whole life flash before him, saw himself discovered, sentenced to life in the dungeon for trying to kill his father. Or worse, executed. It was stupid. He should have never gone through with the plan, never visited that witch.

      Gareth had, at least, acted quickly, taking a chance and jumping to his feet and being the first to pin the blame on Thor. Looking back, he was proud of himself, at how quickly he had reacted. It had been a moment of inspiration, and to his amazement, it seemed to have worked. They had dragged Thor off, and afterwards, the feast had nearly settled down again. Of course, nothing was the same after that, but at the very least, the suspicion seemed to fall squarely on the boy.

      Gareth only prayed it stayed that way. It had been decades since an assassination attempt on a MacGil, and Gareth feared there would be an inquiry, that they would end up looking more deeply into the deed. Looking back, it had been foolish to try to poison him. His father was invincible. Gareth should have known that. He had over-reached. And now he could not help but feel as if it were only a matter of time until the suspicion fell on him. He would have to do whatever he could to prove Thor’s guilt and have him executed before it was too late.

      At least Gareth had somewhat redeemed himself: after that failed attempt, he had called off the assassination. Now, Gareth felt relieved. After watching the plot fail, he had realized there was a part of him, deep down, that did not want to kill his father after all, did not want to have his blood on his hands. He would not be king. He might never be king. But after tonight’s events, that settled well with him. At least he would be free. He could never handle the stress of going through all this again: the secrets, the covering up, the constant anxiety of being found out. It was too much for him.

      As he paced and paced, the night growing late, finally, slowly, he began to calm down. Just as he was beginning to feel like himself, preparing to settle in for the night, there came a sudden crash, and he turned to see his door burst open. In burst Firth, wide-eyed, frantic, rushing into the room as if he were being chased.

      “He’s dead!” Firth screamed. “He’s dead! I killed him. He’s dead!”

      Firth was hysterical, wailing, and Gareth had no idea what he was talking