Andronicus stepped forward and brought his arms out wide to his sides, palms up, claws glistening, and smiled a wide smile, more of a snarl, a gurgling sound like a snarl coming from the back of his throat
“Greetings,” he said, his voice impossibly deep. “We send you a gift from the Wilds.”
He nodded, and one of his men stepped forward and held out a large, bejeweled chest. It sparkled in the late afternoon sun, and McCloud looked down at it and wondered.
The attendant pulled back the lid and reached in, and held out the severed head of a man. McCloud was horrified as he looked down at it: the man looked to be in his fifties, eyes wide open in a death stare, with a bushy black beard, blood still dripping from what was left of his throat. McCloud stared at it, and wondered. He looked up at Andronicus and tried to seem unaffected.
“Is it a gift?” McCloud demanded. “Or a threat?”
Andronicus smiled.
“Both,” he answered. “In our kingdom, it is a ritual to give as a gift the severed head of one of your enemies. It is said that if you drink the blood from the throat, while it is still fresh, it will give you the power of many men.”
The attendant reached out and McCloud grabbed the bloody, matted hair of the skull, and held it out. The look of it disgusted him, but he did not want to tip his hand to these savages. He calmly reached back and handed it to one of his people, without looking at it again.
“Thank you,” he said.
Andronicus smiled wider, and McCloud had the uncanny feeling that he was seeing right through him. He felt off guard.
“Do you know why we have called this meeting?” Andronicus asked.
“I can guess,” McCloud answered. “You need our help to access the Ring. To cross the Canyon.”
Andronicus nodded, his eyes twinkling with something like excitement and lust.
“We want this very badly. And we know that you can provide this for us.”
“Why don’t you go to the MacGils?” McCloud asked the question that had been burning on his mind. “Why choose us?”
“They are closed-minded. Unlike you.”
“But why do you think we are different?” McCloud asked, testing him, wanting to know how much he knew.
“My spies tell us that you and the MacGils do not get along. You want control of the Ring. But you know by now that you will never have it. If this is truly what you want, then you need a powerful ally to help you gain it. You will let us into the Ring. And we will help you gain the other half of the kingdom.”
McCloud studied him, wondering. Andronicus’ eyes were inscrutable, large and yellow and flashing; he had no idea what he was thinking.
“And what’s in it for you?” McCloud asked.
Andronicus smiled.
“Of course, once our army helps you overtake the Ring, then the Ring will be part of the Empire. You will be one of our sovereign territories. You will have to answer to me, but you will be free to run it as you wish. I will allow you to rule all of the Ring. You will keep all the spoils for yourself. We both win.”
McCloud studied him, rubbing his beard.
“But if I gain all the spoils and can rule it as I wish, what do you gain?”
Andronicus smiled.
“The Ring is the only kingdom on this planet that I do not control. And I do not like things that I cannot control.” Suddenly, his smiled turned into a grimace, and McCloud had a glimpse of his fierceness. “It sets a bad example for the other kingdoms.”
As the waves crashed all around them and the sun dipped lower, McCloud stood there, thinking. It was the answer he had expected. But he still didn’t have the answer to the question burning most in his mind.
“And how do I know I can trust you?” McCloud asked.
Andronicus smiled wide.
“You don’t,” he answered.
The honesty of his answer surprised McCloud, and, ironically, made him trust him even more.
“But we, too, don’t know if we can trust you,” he added. “After all, our armies will be vulnerable inside the Ring. You could seal off the Canyon once we were inside. You could ambush our men. We must trust each other.”
“But you have far more men than we do,” McCloud answered.
“But every life is precious,” Andronicus said.
Now McCloud knew that he was lying. Did he really expect him to believe that? Andronicus had millions of soldiers at his disposal, and McCloud had heard stories of his sacrificing entire armies, millions of men, to gain a small piece of ground, just to make a point. Would he do the same to betray McCloud? Would he let McCloud control the Ring, and then, one day, when he wasn’t expecting it, kill him, too?
McCloud thought it over. Before today, it had been a chance he’d be willing to take: after all, it would enable him to control the entire Ring, to oust the MacGils, and the way McCloud saw it, he could betray the Empire first, use their men to conquer the Ring, then re-activate the shield, and kill the Empire men stuck inside.
But after today, after hearing that MacGil was dead, that Gareth was the new king, McCloud felt differently. He might not need the Empire after all. If only he had received this message sooner, before he’d agreed to this meeting. But McCloud didn’t want to completely alienate the Empire either; they might come in useful, at some later date. He had to stall them, to buy time while he tried his new strategy.
He reached up and stroked his beard, pretending to consider the offer, as the waves crashed all around him and the sky turned purple.
“I am grateful for your offer, and I will consider it thoroughly.”
Andronicus suddenly stepped forward, so close that McCloud could smell his awful breath, as he scowled down. He wondered if he had offended him, and had an impulse to reach down for his sword. But he was too nervous to do so. He felt this man could tear him in two if he chose.
“Don’t think too long,” he seethed, all his humor gone. “I don’t like a man who needs time to think. And my offer will not stand long. If you do not let us in, we will find a way in. And if we find a way in our own, we will crush you. Keep that in mind as you consider the possibilities.”
McCloud glowered, reddening. No one ever spoke to him this way.
“Is that a threat?” McCloud asked. He wanted to sound confident, but despite himself, he found his voice shaking.
A deep, throaty sound rippled through Andronicus’ chest, then up through his throat. At first McCloud thought it was a cough-but then he realized it was a laugh.
“I never threaten,” he said down to McCloud. “You will come to learn that about me very, very well.”
CHAPTER TEN
Thor walked with his head down, downcast, kicking pebbles on the road. Krohn walked at his side and Ephistopheles circled somewhere high above, as he made his way slowly to the Legion barracks. Since the funeral, his encounter with Gwen, he felt deflated. The pain of watching MacGil being lowered into the earth took something out of him-as if a part of him sank into the earth with him. The king had taken him under his wing, had shown him kindness, had given him Ephistopheles, had been the only father figure he’d ever had. He felt as if he owed him something, that it had been his responsibility to save him, and somehow, he had failed. As the bells had tolled, Thor felt as if they tolled the announcement of his failure.
Then there was his encounter with Gwen. She hated him now, that much was obvious. Nothing he could say would change her mind. Even worse, her true thoughts came out today: she felt he was beneath her. A commoner. It seemed Alton had been right all the while. The thought of it crushed him. First he had lost the king; then he had lost the girl he had grown to love.
As he walked back towards the Legion, he realized it was the one thing left that he could cling to here. He
