A Quest of Heroes

As he thought about it, he decided it was still all worth it, for the chance to be with her. He was willing to risk it all for that chance. He only hoped he wasn’t being made a fool of, or rushing to any premature conclusions about how strong her feelings were for him.

“Were you just going to walk right by me?” came a voice, followed by a giggle.

Thor jumped, caught off guard, then stopped and turned. Standing in the shade of a huge pine tree, smiling back, was Gwendolyn. His heart lifted at that smile. He could see the love in her eyes, and all his worries and fears instantly melted away. He chided himself for how he could have been so stupid to ever second-guess her intentions.

Krohn squeaked at the sight of her.

“And what do have we here?!” she cried out in delight.

She knelt down and Krohn came running to her, leaping into her arms with a whimper; she picked him up and held him, caressing him.

“He’s so cute!” she said, hugging him tightly. He licked her face. She giggled and kissed him back.

“And what’s your name, little fellow?” she asked.

“Krohn,” Thor said. Finally, this time, he was not as tongue-tied as before.

“Krohn,” she echoed, looking into the cub’s eyes. “And is it every day that you travel with a leopard friend?” she asked Thor with a laugh.

“I found him,” Thor said, feeling self-conscious beside her, as he always did. “In the wood – on the hunt. Your brother said I should keep him, because I found him. That it was destined.”

She looked at him, and her expression became serious.

“Well, he is right. Animals are very sacred things. You don’t find them. They find you.”

“I hope you don’t mind if he joins us,” Thor said.

She giggled.

“I would be sad if he didn’t,” she answered.

She looked both ways, as if to make sure no one was watching, then reached out, grabbed Thor’s hand, and pulled him into the wood.

“Let’s go,” she whispered. “Before someone spots us.”

Thor was exhilarated at the feel of her touch, as she guided him onto the forest trail. They headed quickly into the woods, the path twisting and turning amidst the huge pines. She let go of his hand, but he did not forget the feel of it.

He was beginning to feel more confident that she actually liked him, and it was obvious she did not want to be spotted, either, probably by her mother. Clearly she took this seriously, because she had something to risk by seeing him, too.

Then again, Thor thought, maybe she just didn’t want to be spotted by Alton – or by any other boys she might be with. Maybe Alton had been right. Maybe she was ashamed to be seen with Thor.

Thor felt all these mixed emotions swirl within him.

“Cat has your tongue, does it?” she asked, finally breaking the silence.

Thor felt torn; he didn’t want to risk messing things up by telling her what was on his mind – but at the same time he felt like he needed to put all his worries to rest. He needed to know where she really stood. He could contain it no longer.

“When I left you last time, I ran into Alton. He confronted me.”

Gwendolyn’s expression darkened, her high spirits suddenly ruined – and Thor immediately felt guilty he had brought it up. He cherished her good nature, her joy, and wished he could take it back. He wanted to stop, but it was too late. There was no turning back now.

“And what did he say?” she said, her voice dropping.

“He told me to stay away from you. He told me you didn’t really care about me. He told me I was just amusement for you. That you would tire of me in a day or two. He also said you and he were set to be wed, and that your marriage was already arranged.”

Gwendolyn let out an angry, mocking laugh.

“Did he then?” she snorted. “That boy is the most arrogant, unbearable little pip,” she added, angry. “He’s been a thorn in my side since the time I could walk. Just because our parents are cousins, he thinks he’s part of the royal family. I’ve never met anyone so entitled who deserved it less. Making things worse, he’s got it into his head somehow that the two of us are destined to wed. As if I would just go along with whatever my parents forced me to do. Never. And certainly not with him. I can’t stand the sight of him.”

Thor felt so relieved at her words, he felt a million pounds lighter; he felt like singing from the treetops. It was exactly what he had needed to hear. Now he felt sorry he had darkened their mood all over nothing. But he wasn’t completely satisfied yet; he noticed she still hadn’t said anything about whether she truly liked him, Thor.

“As far as you are concerned,” she said, stealing a glance him, then looking away. “I barely know you. I hardly need to be pressed to commit my feelings now. But I would say that I don’t think I would be spending time with you if I hated you that much. Of course it is my right to change my mind as I wish, and I can be fickle – but not when it comes to love.”

That was all Thor needed. He was impressed by her seriousness, and even more impressed by her choice of word: “love.” He felt restored.

“And incidentally, I might also ask the same of you,” she said, turning the tables. “In fact, I think I have a lot more to lose than you do. After all, I am royalty, and you are commoner. I am older and you are younger. Don’t you think I should be the one who is more guarded? Whispers come to me in the court of your agenda, your social climbing, of your just using me, being hungry for rank. Your wanting favor with the King. Should I believe all this?”

Thor was horrified.

“No, my lady! Never. These things never even entered my mind. I’m with you only because I cannot think of being anywhere else. Only because I want to be. Only because when I’m not with you, I think of nothing else.”

A small smile played at the corner of her mouth, and he could see her expression starting to lighten.

“You are new here,” she said. “You are new to King’s Court, to royal life. You need time to see how things really work. Here, nobody means what they say. Everyone has an agenda. Everyone is angling for power – or rank or wealth or riches or titles. No one can ever be taken for face value. Everyone has their own spies, and factions, and agendas. When Alton told you that my marriage has already been arranged, for instance, what he was really doing was trying to find out how close you and I are. He is threatened. And he might be reporting to someone. For him, marriage doesn’t mean love. It means a union. Purely for financial gain, for rank. For property. In our royal court, nothing is what it seems.”

Suddenly, Krohn sprinted past them, down the forest trail and into a clearing.

Gwen looked at Thor and giggled; she reached out, grabbed his hand, and ran with him.

“Come on!” she yelled, excited.

The two of them ran down the trail and burst into the huge clearing, laughing. Thor was taken aback by the sight: it was a beautiful forest meadow filled with wildflowers of every possible color up to their knees. Birds and butterflies of every color and size danced and flew in the air, and the meadow was alive with the sound of chirping. The sun shone down brilliantly, and it felt like a secret place, hidden here in the midst of this tall dark wood.

“Have you ever played Hangman’s Blind?” she asked with a laugh.

Thor shook his head, and before he could respond, she took a handkerchief from her neck, reached up, and wrapped it over Thor’s eyes, tying it behind him. He couldn’t see, and she giggled loudly in his ear.

“You’re it!” she said.

Then he heard her run away in the grass.

He smiled.

“But what do I do?” he called out.

“Find me!” she called back.

Her voice was already far away.

Thor, blindfolded, began to run after her, tripping as he went. He listened carefully to the rustle of her dress, trying to follow her direction. It was hard, and he ran with his hands out before him, thinking always that he might run into a tree, even though he knew it was an open meadow. Within moments, he was disoriented, and felt as if he were running in circles.

But he continued to listen, hearing the sound of her giggle far away, and kept adjusting, running for it. Sometimes it seemed to get closer, then farther. He was beginning to feel dizzy.

He heard Krohn running beside him, yelping, and he listened instead to Krohn, following his footsteps. As he did, Gwyn’s giggle got louder, and Thor realized that Krohn was leading him to her. He was amazed at how smart Krohn was, to join in their game.

Soon, he could hear her just feet away from him; he chased her, zigzagging every which way through the field. He reached out, and she screamed in delight as he caught the corner of her dress. As he grabbed her, he tripped, and the two of them went crashing down into the soft field. He spun at the last second, so that he would fall first and she on top of him, cushioning her fall.

As Thor landed on the ground, Gwen on top of him, she screamed out in surprise. She was still giggling as she reached up and pulled back the kerchief.

Thor’s heart was pounding as he saw her face just inches from his. He felt the weight of her body on his, in her thin summer dress, felt every contour of her body. The full weight of her pressed down on him, and she made no move to resist. She was staring into his eyes, their breathing shallow, and she did not look away. He did not either. Thor’s heart pounded so fast, he was having a hard time focusing.

Suddenly, she leaned in and planted her lips on his. They were softer than he could possibly imagine, and as they met, for the first time in his life, he felt truly alive.

He closed his eyes, and she closed hers, and they did not move, their lips meeting for he did not know how long. He wanted to freeze this time.

Finally, slowly, she pulled away. She still smiled, as she slowly opened her eyes, and she still lay there, her body on his.

They lay like that for a long time, staring into each other’s eyes.

“Where did you come from?” she asked, softly, smiling.

He smiled back. He did not know how to answer.

“I’m just a regular boy,” he said.

She shook her head and smiled.

“No you are not. I can sense it. I suspect you are far, far more than that.”

She leaned in and kissed him again, and his lips met hers, this time, for a much longer time. He reached up and ran his hand through her hair, and she ran hers through his. He could not stop his mind from racing.

He already wondered how this would end. Could they possibly be together, with all the forces between them? Was it possible for them to really be a couple?

Thor hoped, more than anything in his life, that they could. He wanted to be with her now, even more than he wanted to be in the Legion.

As he was thinking these thoughts, there came a sudden rustling in the grass, and the two of them, startled, turned. Krohn leapt through the grass, just feet away, and there came another rustling noise. Krohn yelped, then growled – then there came a hissing noise. Finally, it was quiet.

Gwen rolled off Thor as they both sat up and looked. Thor jumped to his feet, protective of Gwen, wondering what it could be. He didn’t see anyone. But someone – or something – must be there, just feet away, in the tall grass.

Krohn appeared before them, and in his mouth, in his small, razor-sharp teeth, there dangled a huge, limp white snake. It must have been ten feet long, its skin a brilliant, shining white, as thick as a large tree branch.

Thor realized in an instant what had happened: Krohn had spared the two of them from an attack by this deadly reptile. His heart rushed with gratitude for the cub.

Gwen gasped.

“A Whiteback,” she said. “The most lethal reptile in the entire kingdom.”

Thor stared at it in awe.

“I thought this snake did not exist. I thought it was just a legend.”

“It is very rare,” Gwen said. “I’ve only see one in my lifetime. The day my father’s father was killed. It is an omen.”

She turned and looked at Thor.

“It means death is coming. The death of someone very close.”

Thor felt a chill on his spine. A sudden cold breeze ran through the meadow on this summer day, and he knew, with absolute certainty, that she was right.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Gwendolyn walked alone through the castle, taking the spiral staircase, twisting and turning her way to the top. Her mind raced with thoughts of Thor. Of their walk. Of their kiss. And then, of that snake.

She burned with conflicting emotions. On the one hand, she had been elated to be with him; on the other, she was terror-stricken by that snake, by the omen of death it brought. But she did not know for whom, and she could not get that out of her mind either. She feared it was for someone in her family. Could it be one of her brothers? Godfrey? Kendrick? Could it be her mother? Or, she shuddered to even think, her father?

The sight of that snake had cast a somber shadow on their joyous day, and once their mood had been shattered, they had been unable to get it back. They had made their way back together to the court, parting ways right before they came out of the woods, so they would not be seen. The last thing she wanted was for her mother to catch them together. But Gwen would not give up Thor so easily, and she would find a way to combat her mother; she needed time to figure out her strategy.

It had been painful to part with Thor; thinking back on it, she felt bad. She had meant to ask him if he would see her again, had meant to make a plan for another day. But she had been in a daze, so distraught by the sight of that snake that she had forgotten. Now she worried that he thought she didn’t care for him.

The second she had arrived at King’s Court, her father’s servants had summoned her. She had been ascending the steps ever since, her heart beating, wondering why he wanted to see her. Had she had been spotted with Thor? There could be no other reason her father wanted to see her so urgently. Was he, too, going to forbid her to see him? She could hardly imagine that he would. He had always taken her side.

Gwen, nearly out of breath, finally reached the top. She hurried down the corridor, past the attendants who snapped to attention and opened the door for her to her father’s chamber. Two more servants, waiting inside, bowed at her presence.

“Leave us,” her father said to them.

They bowed and hurried from the room, closing the door behind them with a reverberating echo.

Her father rose from his desk, a big smile on his face, and ventured toward her across the vast chamber. She felt at ease, as she always did, at the sight of him, and felt relieved to see no anger in his expression.

“My Gwendolyn,” he said.

He held out his arms and embraced her in a big hug. She embraced him back, and he directed her to two huge chairs, placed on an angle beside the roaring fire. Several large dogs, wolfhounds, most of whom she had known since childhood, got out of their way as they walked toward the fire. Two of them followed her, and rested their heads in her lap. She was glad for the fire: it had become unusually cold for a summer day.

Her father leaned in toward the fire, staring at the flames as they crackled before them.

“You know why I have summoned you?” he asked.

She searched his face, but still was not sure.

“I do not, Father.”

He looked back in surprise.

“Our discussion the other day. With your siblings. About the kingship. That is what I wanted to discuss with you.”

Gwen’s heart soared with relief. This was not about Thor. It was about politics. Stupid politics, which she could not care less about. She sighed in relief.

“You look relieved,” he said. “What did you think we were going to discuss?”

Her father was too perceptive; he always had been. He was one of the few people who could read her like a book. She had to be careful around him.

“Nothing, Father,” she said quickly.

He smiled again.

“So, then, tell me. What do you think of my choice?” he asked.

“Choice?” she asked.

“For my heir! To the kingdom!”

“You mean me?” she asked.

“Who else?” he laughed.

She blushed.

“Father, I was surprised, to say the least. I am not the firstborn. And I am a woman. I know nothing of politics. And care nothing for them – or for ruling a kingdom. I have no political ambition. I do not know why you chose me.”

“It is precisely for those reasons,” he said, his expression deadly serious. “It is because you don’t aspire to the throne. You don’t want the kingship. And you know nothing of politics.”

He took a deep breath.

“But you know human nature. You are very perceptive. You got it from me. You have your mother’s quick wit, but my skill with people. You know how to judge them; you can see right through them. And that is what a king needs. To know the nature of others. There is nothing more you need. All else is artifice. Know who your people are. Understand them. Trust your instincts. Be good to them. This is all.”

“Surely, there must be more to ruling a kingdom than that,” she said.

“Not really,” he said. “It all stems from that. Decisions stem from that.”

“But Father, you are forgetting that, first, I have no desire to rule, and second, you’re not going to die. This is all just a silly tradition, linked to your eldest’s wedding day. Why dwell on this? I’d rather not even speak of it, or think of it. I hope the day should never come when I see you pass – so this is all irrelevant.”

He cleared his throat, looking grave.

“I have spoken to Argon, and he sees a dark future for me. I have felt it myself. I must prepare,” he said.

Gwen felt her stomach tighten.

“Argon is a fool. A sorcerer. Half of what he says doesn’t come to pass. Ignore him. Don’t give in to his silly omens. You are fine. You will live forever.”

But he slowly shook his head, and she could see the sadness in his face, and she felt her stomach tighten even more.

“Gwendolyn, my daughter, I love you. I need you to be prepared. I want you to be the next ruler of the Ring. I am serious in what I say. It is not a request. It is a command.”

He looked at her with such seriousness, his eyes darkening, it scared her. She had never seen that look on her father’s face before.

She felt her eyes well, and reached up and brushed away a tear.

“I am sorry to have upset you,” he said.

“Then stop talking of this,” she said, crying. “I don’t want you to die.”

“I am sorry, but I cannot. I need you to answer me.”

“Father, I do not want to insult you.”

“Then say yes.”

“But how can I possibly rule?” she pleaded.

“It is not as hard as you think. You will be surrounded by advisors. The first rule is to trust none of them. Trust yourself. You can do this. Your lack of knowledge, your naïveté – that is what will make you great. You will make genuine decisions. Promise me,” he insisted.

She looked into his eyes, and saw how much this meant to him. She wanted to get off this topic, if for no other reason than to appease his morbidity and cheer him up.

“Okay, I promise you,” she said in a rush. “Does that make you feel better?”

He leaned back, and she could see him greatly relieved.

“Yes,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Good, now can we talk of other things? Things that might actually happen?” she asked.

Her father leaned back and roared with laughter; he seemed a million pounds lighter.

“That is why I love you,” he said. “Always so happy. Always able to make me laugh.”

He examined her, and she could sense he was searching for something.

“You seem unusually happy yourself,” he said. “Is there a boy in the picture?”

Gwen blushed. She stood up and walked to the window, turning from him.

“I’m sorry, Father, but that is a private affair.”

“It is not private if you will be ruling my kingdom,” he said. “But I won’t pry. However, your mother has requested an audience with you, and I assume she will not be so lenient. I will let it go. But prepare yourself.”

Her stomach tightened, and she turned away, looking out the window. She hated this place. She wished she were anywhere but here. In a simple village, on a simple farm, living a simple life with Thor. Away from all of this, from all of these forces trying to control her.

She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, and turned to see her father standing there, smiling down.

“Your mother can be fierce. But whatever she decides, know that I will take your side. In matters of love, one must be allowed to choose freely.”

Gwen reached up and hugged her dad. At that moment, she loved him more than anything. She tried to push the omen of that snake from her mind, praying, with all she had, that it was not meant for her father.

* * *

Gwen twisted and turned down corridor after corridor, past rows of stained glass, heading toward her mother’s chamber. She hated being summoned by her mother, hated her controlling ways. In many ways, her mother was really the one who ruled the kingdom. She was stronger than her father in many ways, stood her ground more, gave in less easily. Of course the kingdom had no idea; he put on a strong face, seemed to be the wise one.

But when he returned to the castle, behind closed doors, it was she whom he turned to for advice. She was the wiser one. The colder one. The more calculating one. The tougher one. The fearless one. She was the rock. And she ruled their large family with an iron fist. When she wanted something, especially if she got it into her head that it was for the good of the family, she made sure it happened.

And now her mother’s iron will was about to be turned toward her; she was already bracing herself for the confrontation. She sensed it had something to do with her romantic life, and feared she had been spotted with Thor. But she was resolved not to back down – no matter what it took. If she had to leave this place, she would. Her mother could put her in the dungeon for all she cared.

As Gwen approached her mother’s chamber, the large oak door was opened by her servants, who stepped out of the way as she entered, then closed it behind her.

Her mother’s chamber was much smaller than her father’s, more intimate, with large rugs and a small tea set and gaming board set up beside a roaring fire, several delicate, yellow velvet chairs beside them. Her mother sat in one of the chairs, her back to Gwen, even though she was expecting her. She faced the fire, sipped her tea, and moved one of the pieces on the game board. Behind her were two ladies-in-waiting, one tending her hair, the other tightening her strings on the back of her dress.

“Come in, child,” came her mother’s stern voice.

Gwen hated when her mother did this – held court in front of her servants. She wished she would dismiss them, like her father did when they spoke. It was the least she could do for privacy and decency. But her mother never did. Gwen concluded it was a power play, keeping her servants hovering around, listening, in order to keep Gwen on edge.

Gwen had no choice but to cross the room and take a seat in one of the velvet chairs opposite her mother, too close to the fire. Another of her mother’s power plays: it kept her company too warm, caught off guard by the flames.

The Queen did not look up; rather, she stared down at her board game, pushing one of the ivory pieces in the complex maze.

“Your turn,” her mother said.

Gwen looked down at the board; she was surprised her mother still had this game going. She recalled she had the brown pieces, but she hadn’t played this game with her mother in weeks. Her mother was an expert at Pawns – but Gwen was even better. Her mother hated to lose, and she clearly had been analyzing this board for quite a while, hoping to make the perfect move. Now that Gwen was here, she made her play.

Unlike her mother, Gwen didn’t need to study the board. She merely glanced at it and saw the perfect move in her head. She reached up and moved one of the brown pieces sideways, all the way across the board. It put her mother one move away from losing.

Her mother stared down, expressionless except for a flicker of her eyebrow, which Gwen knew indicated dismay. Gwen was smarter, and her mother would never accept that.

Her mother cleared her throat, studying the board, still not looking at her.

“I know all about your escapades with that common boy,” she said derisively. “You defy me.” Her mother looked up at her. “Why?”