“I don’t know. My siblings are pretty smart, too.”
But Thor could see that she was just being humble. Seeing her in this place, how at-home she was here, he saw her in a new light; he saw for the first time how learned she was, could see the intelligence shining in her eyes, and suddenly it all made sense. He could see that Gwendolyn had her own source of power. Knowledge. Wisdom beyond what Thor could ever hope to attain. It was inspiring. And he would never have expected it from her, given how beautiful she was, and given that women were rarely given such a scholarly education in this kingdom.
“You are late for the day’s lesson,” came a voice.
Thor turned to see an old man walking towards them, his face covered in wrinkles, his head covered in gray hair, wearing the royal purple and green robes of the Royal Council. He walked with a limp, slowly, hunched over just a bit, using a cane to help him go, the golden tip echoing as it touched down on the stone floor. He smiled warmly at Gwen, his face folding into a million lines.
Gwen cleared her throat.
“Thor, meet Aberthol. He is the Royal Scholar. He was of counsel to my father, and to his father before him.”
“And to his father before him,” Aberthol added in his hoarse voice, smiling. “But not to the new MacGil king,” he added, growing serious. “Not anymore, anyway.”
Gwen looked back at him, in shock.
“Really?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Not as of yesterday. It was too much. I could suffer no more of his indignities. He has surrounded himself with a new Council anyway. Young folk. All of whom seem bent on ill-advising him. I still sit at the council meetings, but it is just a formality now.”
Aberthol shook his head sadly.
“Your father would be turning over in his grave,” he said. “This does not bode well for the Ring. It does not bode well at all. When knowledge and wisdom are replaced with ignorance and haughtiness, it is only a matter of time until the court collapses-and the kingdom with it. For after all, what are a court and a kingdom built on, if not on knowledge and wisdom? All else-arms and soldiers and wealth and power-all else follows that. Wisdom is the foundation of any kingdom. Never forget that Gwendolyn.”
She nodded back to him, and he studied her.
“I hear that you will rule,” he added.
Gwen opened her eyes wide in surprise.
“How did you hear that?” she asked.
He smiled back.
“I’m not without my resources,” he said, “even for an old man. Word travels quickly in King’s Court. Too quickly. Yet in this case, it is word I am happy to receive. I always knew you would make a great ruler. Even greater than your father.”
Gwen blushed and looked down to the floor.
“I am not ruler of anything yet,” she said. “My brother still reigns. And there is no sign of his stepping down.”
Aberthol shrugged.
“An apple with a rotten core can only last so long,” he said. “Either he will fall, or the kingdom will first. Both cannot endure. Discard your humility. Begin your preparations. Our Ring needs you. Now is not the time for meekness. Now is the time for a show of strength. Embrace your role. Allow your fellow countrymen to take strength in you. Do as your father wished for you to do. It is no longer about you. Is about
Gwen nodded.
“I will do whatever I could to help our people,” she said.
Aberthol turned and looked at Thor. He opened his heavily lined eyes just enough to really look at him.
“And you are the newcomer,” he said. “MacGil took a liking to you. I can see why. There is intelligence in your eyes. It will serve you well. Don’t ever forget it. Don’t think you can rely on arms alone. Or sorcery. It is
Thor lowered his head.
“Yes, sire,” he said calmly.
“You are disadvantaged,” he said to Thor. “You were raised a villager, with no access to the Royal Library. But then again, few people in the Ring are. Learn from Gwen. Let her teach you. Embrace what she has to offer. Be lucky that you found this place now, not later in life. Contemplate all the knowledge in here. Learn the history of the Ring and know it well. Without knowledge, without history, you are nothing but an empty shell.”
With that, Aberthol turned and walked past them, brushing by them, his cane tapping as he went.
“Always remember, Gwendolyn,” he said, not turning back as he continued to walk, “these books will save you.”
Thor turned and looked at Gwen, overwhelmed. Her eyes were shining back at his.
When Aberthol was out of earshot, she said softly, “Sorry about him-he can be intense. He doesn’t waste time on trivialities. He never has.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Thor said. “He said enough in a few minutes to make me think for a lifetime.”
Gwen laughed, reached down and took his hand, and led him down the hall. She led him around the broad circle, past stacks of books, then to a narrow, circular stone stairwell, which led down, underground, into the bowels of the place.
Thor followed her, amazed that there was another story underground. As they walked, the staircase kept going, and they passed floor after floor of books, descending deeper and deeper underground, probably a good ten stories. Thor was shocked. This place was vast. Labyrinthine.
“All of these books,” Thor said, catching his breath to keep up as Gwen skipped down the steps as if she were home. “I was overwhelmed by the number of books simply on the first floor. But the number of floors here never seems to end.”
Gwen laughed.
“Yes, the library is deep. But remember, we are dealing with seven hundred years of MacGil Kings. The knowledge is as vast and deep as the family history-as the Ring itself. This building also houses ancient texts from all corners of the Empire, going back thousands of years, of which we are the guardians. We are the holders of the ancient truth. This is one of the reasons why the Empire is so intent on crushing us. They want to wipe out the history. To rewrite it. As long as we preserve it here, they never can.”
They reached the final floor, and Thor followed Gwen as they proceeded down a stone corridor, lit every few feet by torches. Gwen took one off the wall and turned several times down various corridors, until they reached a small back room.
As they entered she lit several torches along the walls, until the small, cozy room was brightly lit. She affixed her torch to the wall and led Thor to a comfortable seat, big enough for two, at an ancient oak table in the center of the room, covered haphazardly in stacks of books. Thor could hardly get over this place. There were enough books on this table alone to last him a lifetime, and from the way Gwen began to organize them, it seemed as if she were familiar with them all.
Gwen reached over and opened an oversized book, displaying ancient maps. Thor leaned over beside her and ran his hand along the fine, crinkled pages, along the raised ink, tracing the trails of rivers, of mountains. This map was like a work of art.
“Do you know the ancient language?” Gwen asked. “The lost language of the Ring?”
Thor shook his head, embarrassed.
“Don’t feel bad,” she said. “There’s no reason why you should. Most don’t. It is taught to the royal family as a matter of course. Other than that, it is often the domain of scholars and kings. I would like to teach it to you, if you’d like to learn.”
“I would love to,” Thor said, excited at the idea. Thor loved knowledge, he always had, but he had never been granted access to it in his humble village; he had especially never had access to learning anything like the ancient language, which he knew to be the language of Kings for hundreds of years. The idea of learning it thrilled him.
