The room fell silent as all turned to him.
“The gods be willing, one day, sooner or later, Gareth will be ousted. When that day comes, we will be left with no ruler of the Ring. Which MacGil shall succeed him? Kendrick, you are firstborn, legitimate or not. The men look up to you. Is it a role you will accept?”
Kendrick shook his head adamantly.
“My father’s dying wish was that Gwendolyn should rule. We all witnessed it.”
A gasp spread throughout the room.
“A woman?” one of the knights called out.
“It is true!” Reece said.
“It is!” Godfrey called out, too. “We were all at that meeting. It was our father’s wish. He skipped over all of us and chose her. As her siblings, we accept it. In fact, we all approve of the choice.”
“If you all honor MacGil,” Kendrick said, “then you will honor his final wish. You will institute and defend Gwen as ruler of this kingdom.”
All the soldiers in the room turned and looked at Gwen, and a heavy silence filled the room.
Thor looked over at her, and saw her lower her head in humility.
“If it was good enough for MacGil, then it’s good enough for me,” Brom boomed, breaking the stunned silence.
“And I!” Kolk added.
“And I!” echoed all the soldiers in the room.
“But Gwendolyn, would you accept?” Kendrick asked her.
An expectant silence followed, as she lowered her head. Several moments of silence followed.
“I know that you would be a fair and wise ruler,” Kendrick added. “Much better than Gareth.”
“You are what our father wanted,” Godfrey added, “and you are what the Ring needs.”
Finally, Gwen cleared her throat.
“It is not something I wish for, or something that I seek, my Lords,” she said. “It is true, when father pressed me, I did agree to him that I would accept it. But I did so grudgingly. I would much rather that one of you rule in my stead.”
Kendrick shook his head.
“We do not always get what we wish,” he said. “Sometimes you must do what is best for the kingdom. And with every ounce of who I am, I know that it is you who should rule.”
“Aye!” called out several soldiers, in agreement.
The room was thick with silence, as they awaited Gwen’s response.
“Gwen, say yes,” Godfrey urged, as she wavered. “The people need someone to rally around. The nobles, the Lords, everyone in all the provinces-they need to know that someone is in place, someone they can get behind, when Gareth should fall. For the kingdom’s sake, say yes.”
Gwen looked down to the ground, feeling her father’s spirit with her strongly, then finally looked back up.
“I will agree,” she said, finally.
The room erupted into a cheer, and Thor could hear how happy and relieved everyone was to have an alternate to Gareth. He felt elated himself, and beyond proud of her.
Before the cheer had even died down, before he’d had a chance to congratulate her, suddenly, the door to the hall burst open again, and in rushed a messenger, frantic.
“My Lord!” he said bowing in Kendrick’s direction. “Outside this hall waits a contingent of men-a hundred men strong, fierce warriors all of them. Nevaruns! They say they have come to take their bride away!”
“Bride?” Kendrick called out.
“They say they have come to claim Gwendolyn!” the messenger said.
The hall burst out in an outraged gasp.
“Gwendolyn, is this true?” Kendrick asked her.
She frowned.
“It is but another devious plot set into place by our brother. He did not succeed in assassinating me, so now he thinks he can marry me off, to get me out of his hair. He has no right. He is not my father.”
Thor suddenly drew his sword, and began marching out the hall.
“Whether he has a legal right or not, I don’t care,” Thor said. “There is only one right that I will heed, and that is the right of swords. If these men want to take Gwendolyn away, they will have to go through me!”
“And me!” Reece yelled, drawing his sword.
There came the sound of hundreds of swords being drawn in the hall, as all the soldiers got behind Thor.
Thor led the way, across the hall, out the open door, hundreds of soldiers following as they went outside to greet the contingent.
Before them, waiting, were a hundred of the fiercest warriors Thor had ever laid eyes upon, mounted on horseback, their leader on the ground, standing before his horse. He was twice as tall and as broad as any man Thor had ever seen. He had bright red skin, and scowled, with two long fangs protruding from his mouth, like tusks, and several rows of sharp, rotted teeth. The skin on his face was red, his eyes were hardly bigger than slits, a dark yellow, and his bald head was shaped in a point. He and his men all wore yellow and green armor.
“I have come to claim my bride,” he growled down at Thor. It sounded like the snarl of an animal.
Krohn, standing beside Thor, snarled, the hair on his back standing, ready to pounce at the man.
“You are mistaken,” Thor answered back, bravely, trying to use his most confident voice. “There is no bride for you here. Gwendolyn does not wish to leave, and she will not leave this kingdom without the spilled blood of all our men.”
The man scowled down at Thor, his fist tightening on the hilt of his sword, his face turning even redder.
“I was promised a bride by your King!” the man snarled, gripping and releasing the hilt of his sword, as his soldiers pranced anxiously behind him.
“He has promised you something you cannot have,” Thor answered. “Your fight is with our King, not with us. And not with Gwendolyn.”
“My fight is with no one!” he yelled. “Because that bride is mine. And I am taking her! Now out of my way, little one!”
The Nevarun took several steps towards Thor, raised his sword high, as he did, Thor felt a burst of rage flash through him, unlike any he had ever felt. As the man came close, Thor raised his left palm and thrust it towards him, and Thor watched as a yellow ball of energy went flying from his palm, struck the man in the chest, and sent him flying back, dozens of feet, landing hard on the ground.
The crowd froze, watching.
Slowly, the Nevarun shook his head and got back to his feet. He turned and looked down at Thor with surprise. And with hatred. But this time, he did not dare come near.
“You are a demon!” the Nevarun said.
“Call me what you will,” Thor said, no longer embarrassed of who or what he was. He was beginning to feel more at home with himself. “You will not touch Gwendolyn.”
The Nevarun stood there, unsure, grabbing and releasing his sword, as he snarled with each breath.
After what felt like an eternity, finally, he turned to his men, muttered something in a language that Thor did not understand, then jumped up and remounted his horse.
“You have insulted the honor of the Nevaruns. We do not forgive. One day, you will pay-you will all pay-by blood. And when we take your bride, which we will, we will return her as a corpse!”
The Nevarun spat, then he and his contingent turned and rode off, speeding back down the main road out of King’s Court.
Thor slowly lowered his sword, shaking inside but not wanting to show it. Reece came up and patted him on the shoulder, as did several others.
Gwen came up beside him. She laid a hand on his cheek, leaned in and kissed him. And with that kiss, all felt right again in the world. He would never let her go. Never.
