A Vow of Glory. Morgan Rice

room.

      "From this day forward,” the commander boomed, “let it be known that we no longer serve you! You will face the Empire's army on your own. I hope they treat you well. Better than you treated your father!”

      The soldiers all stormed from the room, in a great clang of armor.

      The dozens of councilmen and attendants and noblemen who remained all stood in the silence, whispering.

      "Leave me!” Gareth screamed. “ALL OF YOU!”

      All the people left in the chamber quickly filed out, including Gareth’s own fighting force left.

      Only one person remained, lingering behind the others.

      Lord Kultin.

      Just he and Gareth were alone in the room. He walked up to Gareth, stopping a few feet away, and examined him, as if summing him up. As usual, his face was expressionless. It was the true face of a mercenary.

      "I don't care what you did or why,” he began, his voice gravelly and dark. “I don’t care about politics. I'm a fighter. I care only for the money you pay me and my men.”

      He paused.

      “Yet I would like to know, for my own personal satisfaction: did you truly order those men to take the sword away?"

      Gareth stared back at the man. There was something in his eyes that he recognized in himself: they were cold, remorseless, opportunistic.

      “And if I did?” Gareth asked back.

      Lord Kultin stared back for a long time.

      “But why?” he asked.

      Gareth stared back, silent.

      Kultin’s eyes widened in recognition.

      “You couldn’t wield it, so no one could?” asked Kultin. “Is that it?” He considered the ramifications. “Yet even so,” Kultin added, “surely you knew that sending it away would lower the shield, make us vulnerable to attack.”

      Kultin’s eyes opened wider.

      “You wanted us to be attacked, didn’t you? Something in you wants King’s Court destroyed,” he said, suddenly realizing.

      Gareth smiled back.

      “Not all places,” Gareth said slowly, “are meant to last forever.”

      Chapter Five

      Gwendolyn marched with the huge entourage of soldiers, advisors, attendants, councilors, Silver, Legion, and half of King’s Court, as they all made their way – one huge, walking city – away from King's Court. Gwen was overwhelmed with emotion. On the one hand, she was thrilled to finally be free from her brother Gareth, to be far from his reach, surrounded by trusted warriors who could protect her, with no fear of his treachery or of being married off to anyone. Finally, she would not have to watch her back every waking moment from fear of one of his assassins.

      Gwen also felt inspired and humbled to be chosen to rule, to lead this huge contingent of people. The huge entourage followed her as if she were some sort of prophet, all marching on the endless road to Silesia. They saw her as their ruler – she could see it in their every glance – and looked to her with expectation. She felt guilty, wanting one of her brothers to have the honor – anyone but her. Yet she saw how much hope it gave the people to have a fair and just leader, and that made her happy. If she could fulfill that role for them, especially in these dark times, she would.

      Gwen thought of Thor, of their teary goodbye at the Canyon, and it broke her heart; she saw him disappearing, walking across the Canyon bridge, into the mist, on a journey that would almost surely lead to his death. It was a valiant and noble quest – one she could not deny him – one she knew had to be taken for the sake of the kingdom, for the sake of the Ring. Yet she also kept asking herself why it had to be him. She wished it could be anyone else. Now, more than ever, she wanted him by her side. In this time of turmoil, of huge transition, as she was left all alone to rule, to carry his child, she wanted him here. More than anything, she worried for him. She could not imagine life without him; the thought of it made her want to cry.

      But Gwen breathed deep and stayed strong, knowing all eyes were on her as they marched, an endless caravan on this dusty road, heading ever farther North, towards the distant Silesia.

      Gwen was also still in shock, torn apart for her homeland. She could hardly fathom that the ancient Shield was down, that the Canyon had been breached. Rumors had been circulating from distant spies that Andronicus had already landed on McCloud’s shores. She could not be certain what to believe. She had a hard time grasping that it could have happened so quickly – after all, Andronicus would still have to send his entire fleet across the ocean. Unless somehow McCloud had been behind the theft of the sword, and had orchestrated the downing of the Shield. But how? How had he managed to steal it? Where was he taking it?

      Gwen could feel how dejected everyone was around her, and she could hardly blame them. There was an air of despondency among this crowd, and for good reason; without the shield, they were all defenseless. It was only a matter of time – if not today, then tomorrow or the day after – that Andronicus would invade. And when he did, there was no way they could hold back his men. Soon this place, everything she had grown to love and cherish, would be conquered and everyone she loved would be killed.

      As they marched, it was as if they were marching to their deaths. Andronicus was not here yet, but it felt as if they had already been captured. She recalled something her father once said: conquer an army’s heart and the battle is already won.

      Gwen knew it was up to her to inspire them all, to make them feel a sense of safety, of security – somehow, even, of optimism. She was determined to do so. She could not let her personal fears or a sense of pessimism overcome her at a time like this. And she refused to allow herself to wallow in self-pity. This was no longer just about her. It was about these people, their lives, their families. They needed her. They were all looking to her for help.

      Gwen thought of her father and wondered what he would do. It made her smile to think of him. He would have put on a brave face, no matter what. He had always told her to hide fear with bluster, and as she thought back on his life, he had never seemed afraid. Not once. Perhaps it was just show; but it was a good show. As leader, he had known he was on display at all times, had known it was the show that people needed, perhaps even more than the leadership. He was too selfless to indulge in his fears. She would learn from his example. She would not either.

      Gwen looked around and saw Godfrey marching beside her, and beside him Illepra, the healer; these two were engaged in conversation, and the two of them, she had noticed, seemed to take an ever-increasing liking to each other, ever since Illepra had saved his life. Gwen longed for her other siblings to be here, too. But Reece was gone with Thor, Gareth of course was gone from her forever, and Kendrick was still in his outpost, somewhere in the east, still helping to rebuild that remote town. She had sent a messenger for him – it had been the first thing she had done – and she prayed he would reach him in time to retrieve him, bring him to Silesia to be with her and help defend it. At least, then, two of her siblings – Kendrick and Godfrey – could take refuge in Silesia with her; that accounted for all of them. Except, of course, for her oldest sister, Luanda.

      For the first time in a long time, Gwen's thoughts turned to Luanda. She had always had a bitter rivalry with her older sister; it had not surprised Gwen in the least that Luanda had taken the first chance she could to flee King's Court and marry that McCloud. Luanda had always been ambitious and had always wanted to be first. Gwendolyn had loved her, and had looked up to her when she was younger; but Luanda, ever competitive, had not returned the love. And after a while, Gwen had stopped trying.

      Yet now Gwen felt bad for her; she wondered what had become of her, with the McClouds invaded by Andronicus. Would she be killed? Gwen shuddered at the thought. They were rivals, but at the end of the day, they were still sisters, and she did not want to see her dead before her time.

      Gwen thought of her mother, the only other one in her family left out there, stranded at King's Court, with Gareth, still in her state. The thought made her cold. Despite all the anger she still