in armor, having his weaponry back, and riding alongside his brothers in arms made him feel as if he had been shot out of a cannon, made him feel a recklessness which he had never experienced before.
Kendrick galloped, leaning low into the wind, his close friend Atme at his side, so grateful for the chance to fight with his brothers, to not miss this battle, and eager to liberate his home city from the McClouds-and to make them pay for invading. He rode with an urge for bloodshed, though even as he rode he knew that the real target of his wrath was not the McClouds but his brother, Gareth. He would never forgive him for imprisoning him, for accusing him of his father’s murder, for taking him away in front of his men-and for attempting to execute him. Kendrick wanted vengeance on Gareth-but since he could not have it, at least not today, he would take it out on the McClouds.
When Kendrick returned to King’s Court, though, he would settle things. He would do whatever he could to oust his brother, and to instill his sister Gwendolyn as the new ruler.
As they neared the sacked city, huge, billowing black clouds rolling towards them and filling Kendrick’s nostrils with acrid smoke, it pained him to see a MacGil city like this. If his father had still been alive, this would have never happened; if Gareth had not succeeded him, this would have never have happened either. It was a disgrace, a stain on the honor of the MacGils and The Silver. Kendrick prayed they were not too late to rescue these people, that the McClouds had not been here too long, and that too many people had not been injured or killed.
He kicked his horse harder, riding out in front of the others, as they all charged, like a swarm of bees, towards the open-gate entrance to the city. They stormed through, Kendrick drawing his sword, preparing to encounter a host of the McCloud enemy as they charged into the city. He let out a great shout, as did all the men around him, steeling himself for impact.
But as he passed through the gate, as he entered the dusty square of the city, he was stumped by what he saw: nothing. All around him were the telltale signs of an invasion-destruction, fires, looted homes, corpses piled, women crawling. There were animals killed, blood on the walls. It had been a massacre. The McClouds had ravaged these innocent folk. The thought of it made Kendrick sick. They were cowards.
But what stumped Kendrick as he rode was that the McClouds were nowhere in sight. He could not understand it. It was as if the entire army had evacuated deliberately, as if they had known they were coming. Fires were still alight, and it was clear that they had been lit with a purpose.
It was beginning to dawn on Kendrick that this was all a decoy. That the McClouds had wanted to lure the MacGil army to this place.
But why?
Kendrick suddenly spun, looked around, desperate to see if any of his men were missing, if any contingent had been lured away, to another spot. His mind was flooding with a new sense, a sense that this had all been arranged to cordon off a group of his men, to ambush them. He looked everywhere, wondering who was missing.
And then it hit him. One person was missing. His squire.
Thor.
CHAPTER SIX
Thor sat on his horse, atop the hill, the group of Legion members and Krohn beside him, and looked out at the startling site before him: as far as the eye could see were McCloud troops, sitting on horseback, a vast and sprawling Army, clearly awaiting them. They had been set up. Forg must have led them here on purpose, must have betrayed them. But why?
Thor swallowed, looking out at what appeared to be their sure death.
A great battle cry rose up, as the McCloud army suddenly charged them. They were but a few hundred yards away, and closing in fast. Thor glanced back over his shoulder, but there were no reinforcements as far as he could see. They were completely alone.
Thor knew they had no other choice but to make a last stand here, on this small hill, beside this deserted keep. It was impossible odds, and there was no way they could win. If he was going to go down, he would go down bravely, and face them all like a man. The Legion had taught him that much. Running was not an option, and Thor prepared himself to face his death.
Thor turned and looked at his friends’ faces, and he could see they, too, were pale with fear; he saw death in their eyes. But to all of their credit, they remained brave. Not one of them flinched, even though their horses pranced, or made a move to turn and run. The Legion was one unit now. They were more than friends: the Hundred had forged them into one team of brothers. Not one of them would leave the other. They had all taken a vow, and their honor was at stake. And to the Legion, honor was more sacred than blood.
“Gentlemen, I do believe we have a fight before us,” Reece announced slowly, as he reached over and drew his sword.
Thor reached down and drew his sling, wanting to take out as many as he could before they reached them. O’Connor drew his short spear, while Elden hoisted his javelin; Conval raised a throwing hammer, and Conven a throwing pick. The other boys with them from the Legion, the ones Thor did not know, drew their swords and raised their shields. Thor could feel the fear in the air, and he felt it too, as the thunder of the horses grew, as the sound of the McClouds’ cry reached the heavens, sounding like a rolling clap of thunder about to hit them. Thor knew that they needed a strategy-but he did not know what.
Beside Thor, Krohn snarled. Thor drew inspiration from Krohn’s fearlessness: he never whimpered or looked back once. In fact, the hairs rose on his back, and he slowly walked forward, as if to meet the army alone. Thor knew that in Krohn he had found a true battle companion.
“Do you think the others will reinforce us?” O’Connor asked.
“Not in time,” Elden answered. “We’ve been set up by Forg.”
“But why?” Reece asked.
“I don’t know,” Thor answered, stepping forward on his horse, “but I have a sinking feeling it has something to do with me. I think someone wants me dead.”
Thor felt the others turn and look at him.
“Why?” Reece asked.
Thor shrugged. He did not know, but he had some inkling it had to do with all the machinations at King’s court, something to do with the assassination of MacGil. Most likely, it was Gareth. Perhaps he viewed Thor as a threat.
Thor felt terrible for having endangered his brothers in arms, but there was nothing he could do about it now. All he could do now was do his best to defend them.
Thor had enough. He shouted and kicked his horse, and he burst forward at a gallop, charging out before the others. He would not wait here to be met by this army, by his death. He would take the first blows, maybe even divert the blows from his brothers in arms, and give them a chance to run if they decided to. If he was going to meet his death, he would meet it fearlessly, with honor.
Shaking inside but refusing to show it, Thor kicked his horse and burst forward, farther and farther from the others, charging down the hill towards the advancing army. Beside him, Krohn sprinted, not missing a beat.
Thor heard a shout, and behind him, his fellow Legion members raced to catch up. They were hardly twenty yards away, and they galloped after him, raising a battle cry. Thor remained way out in front, yet still, it felt good to have their support behind him.
Before Thor a contingent of warriors broke out from the McCloud army, charging ahead to meet Thor, perhaps fifty men. They were a hundred yards ahead and closing in fast, and Thor pulled back his sling, took aim and hurled. He aimed for the lead warrior, a large man with a silver breastplate, and his aim was perfect. He hit the man at the base of the throat, between the plates of armor, and the man fell from his horse, landing on the ground before the others.
As he fell, his horse fell with him, and the dozen horses behind him piled up, sending their soldiers hurling to the ground, face first.
Before they could react, Thor placed another stone, reached back and hurled it. Again, his aim was true, and
