A Reign of Steel

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Gwendolyn rode on the back of Ralibar, hanging on for dear life, wondering how she got here. Ralibar flew erratically, unlike he ever had before, weaving up and down, racing through the clouds, as if wanting her off.

“Ralibar, please, slow!” she cried out.

But Ralibar would not listen. He was like a different beast, a dragon she did not know. He roared—a terrifying noise—and dove straight down through the clouds—right, Gwen saw, for King’s Court.

“I can’t hang on!” Gwen yelled, slipping.

But Ralibar flew faster, steeper, and a moment later, Gwen shrieked as she lost her grip.

Gwen went tumbling through the air, head over heels, flying straight down toward King’s Court. And Ralibar, instead of swooping down to catch her, flew off, away from her.

Gwendolyn braced herself, shrieking, as the ground rushed up for her.

She landed hard on a floor of mud, feeling the pain in every part of her body. Yet also alive.

Gwen got up slowly, wondering how she could have survived. She looked all around and barely recognized King’s Court. It was all in ruins, and she lay in the center of it, the only person left alive.

She heard a baby’s cry, and she spun, immediately recognizing her son’s wailing. She saw, on the far side of the square, Guwayne. He lay there all alone, crying up to the heavens.

Heart breaking, Gwen tried to run for him, but as she did, she found herself stumbling in the mud.

“Guwayne!” she cried.

Gwen ran, stumbling, until finally she reached him. She scooped him up and held him tight, crying, rocking him. She could not understand how he had gotten here, all alone.

Gwendolyn looked up and saw standing before her, beneath the great arched gate to the city, her father. King MacGil. He was expressionless, his face hard and cold, and he stared back, grim.

“My daughter,” he boomed, his voice sounding so far away. “Leave this place. Leave it at once.”

Gwen gripped Guwayne, crying and screeching in her arms; she was about to respond, to ask her father what he was doing here, what he was warning against, when suddenly she heard a flapping of wings. She craned her neck and looked up to the sky, and she finally saw a dragon swooping down from the clouds. At first she was elated, expecting it was Ralibar; but then she was horrified to see that it was not him. It was a hideous dragon, yellow in color, one she had never seen before, with long, razor-sharp teeth, a head too big for its body, and wings covered in spikes and thorns.

The dragon arched its neck, shrieking to the skies, then lowered its head and breathed fire, right for her. A wall of flame raced through the air, and Gwen screamed and clutched her baby to her chest to protect him from the heat. She flinched and ducked, yet try as she did to get away, she felt the flames slowly burning her alive.

Gwen woke screaming. She sat up in bed, breathing hard, looking everywhere, trying to brush off the flames. She jumped out of bed, and it took her a moment to realize it was just a nightmare.

Gwen stood in her castle chamber, sweating, breathing hard. Slowly, she caught her breath and looked out and saw the first of the rising suns through her window, the room spreading with violet. She looked over and saw Guwayne sleeping soundly in his crib beside her bed. She breathed deep, realizing all was well in the world.

Gwen crossed the room, splashed water on her face, then gravitated toward the arched open-air window. She looked out, bracing herself for the worst after that dream.

But all was peaceful in her kingdom. Her entire court was asleep and no one stirred. From all appearances, there was no reason to fear.

Yet as Gwen stood there, her dream hung over her like a blanket. She sensed that the visions she saw were real; she sensed it was all a warning, that she had to get out of this place—and get her people out of this place. They had to evacuate. She could not wait another moment.

Gwendolyn quickly dressed, crossed her chamber, and threw open the door.

Her guards turned and stared at her, stiffening at attention.

“My lady,” one said.

She looked back at him with the gravity of a Queen. She was resolved—whatever the fallout would be.

“Sound the evacuation horns,” she commanded. “Now.”

There was no mistaking the authority in her voice, and her attendants looked at her, eyes widening in surprise. But they executed her command, and immediately running off and hurrying to do her will.

Gwen turned, scooped up Guwayne, and prepared to gather her most precious things. She took one long last look at this castle chamber, then went to the window and looked out at King’s Court for the last time. She knew she would never see it again.

Gwendolyn stood in the center of the courtyard of King’s Court in the early morning sun, surrounded by thousands of her people, an agitated and angry mob. Beside her stood Steffen and Aberthol and all her counselors, along with her brothers, Godfrey and Kendrick. They stood by her side, in support of the Queen, as the mob confronted her angrily. Around the periphery of King’s Court stood hundreds of her soldiers, watching warily, holding their weapons, prepared, on her nod, to take action on those people who refused to evacuate.

After the horns had sounded, her people had all gathered here in the courtyard, soldiers forcing them from their homes; now here they stood, bleary-eyed, an angry mob facing her, demanding answers. She had never seen her people so upset with her, and she did not like the feeling. This was not the experience of being Queen that she had come to know.

“We demand answers!” someone yelled from the crowd, and the huge mob cheered angrily.

“You cannot just take us all from our homes like this!” cried out another.

“Why are you demanding evacuation? We’re not under attack!”

“I shall not run from my birth-given home while in the most fortified city on earth!”

“We want answers!”

The crowd cheered again. Gwendolyn faced them all, feeling hated by her people. Yet deep down, however hard it was, she knew she was doing the right thing.

Gwen stepped forward and there came a lull, as all eyes turned to her in the silence.

“I had a dream,” Gwen called out to the crowd. “A dream of destruction, coming for us.”

“A dream!” someone yelled.

The entire crowd laughed derisively.

“Are we to uproot and leave our whole lives behind for your dreams?”

The crowd cheered, and Gwendolyn felt her face flush, embarrassed.

“Gwendolyn is your queen, and you shall treat her respectfully!” Steffen yelled out angrily.

Gwendolyn laid a reassuring hand on his wrist; she appreciated his support, but she did not want him to incite the crowd further.

“If you wish to leave based on your dreams,” one of them yelled out, “then do so! We shall find ourselves a new ruler!”

Another cheer.

“We will not leave!” another yelled.

The crowd shouted, rising to a fever pitch.

Godfrey rushed forward beside her and faced the crowd, waving his arms.

“Gwendolyn has always been a good and fair queen to you!” he yelled. “She has stood by you through thick and thin. Now you must return the favor. If she has cause to believe we should evacuate, then you must listen!”

“Even good queens can make bad decisions!” a crowd member yelled, to the cheers of others.

Gwen looked out at the faces, and she could see every one of them was angry, determined, and perhaps afraid. None of them wanted to venture out into the unknown. She could understand.

“I understand how you feel!” Gwendolyn yelled out. “But my decision is not based on dreams alone. It is based on prophecies. Ancient prophecies that I’ve read. Portents that I’ve seen coming. Argon’s predictions. I do not believe King’s Court will stand much longer. I want you all in safety before it happens. I know it is hard for you to leave your homes. I myself do not wish to leave my home. I love King’s Court. But I ask you to trust me. I understand the unknown is hard. But it will be safer than where we are now.”

“How can we trust you when you show us no danger?” one of them yelled, and the crowd cheered in agreement.

“We shall not leave!” another yelled.

As the crowd roared and cheered, Gwendolyn could not believe what she saw before her. Were the masses so fickle? Could they really love her one moment, and hate her the next?

Gwen recalled something her father had once said to her, something she hadn’t understood at the time. The masses will love you and the masses will hate you. It is a trap to be swayed by either.

“I’m sorry,” Gwendolyn said, “but I am your leader, and I must decide what is best. If you do not leave voluntarily, my soldiers will have to forcibly escort you out of the city. This city is being gated up and evacuated—and no one will stay behind. Not on my watch.”

Boos and jeers rose up, and a man stepped forward and faced Kendrick.

“This is why a woman should not rule over us,” the man said. “A woman gives in to her fickle dreams. You are King MacGil’s firstborn son. We would rather have you lead us.”

The crowd cheered behind him, and Gwen could not believe what she was hearing. Kendrick reddened.

“This is your time,” the man continued. “Take over the rulership of the MacGils. The Silver will answer to you. We shall not listen to her—but we shall listen to you.”

Gwendolyn looked at Kendrick, dismayed, and wondered how he would react. She knew that he did not agree with evacuation. This was his chance, indeed.

A tense silence fell over the crowd until finally Kendrick spoke up.

“I stand with my sister!” he boomed. “I shall always honorably serve my Queen—whether I agree with her or not. That is what our father would want. And that is our code of honor.”

The crowd, surprised and disappointed, raised their fists and jeered.

“SILVER!” Kendrick boomed. “Your Queen has spoken. Fulfill her command! Evacuate this city at once!”

A chorus of horns sounded, and the crowd jeered and shoved as thousands of Silver closed in on them, corralling them toward the gates. The crowd pushed back, fighting them. But the Silver were armed, wore armor, and were an elite fighting force, and the crowd was no match for them. The Silver pushed them slowly and steadily, all the way to the city gates.

Slowly, the city emptied, one person at a time.

Gwen stood watching it all, and she came up beside Kendrick as he watched, too.

“Thank you, my brother,” she said, laying a hand on his wrist. “I shall never forget this.”

He turned to her and nodded, yet his face was grave.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, my sister,” he said.

Gwen looked at him, feeling torn herself, as she watched her people leave this city and prepared to join them.

“I hope so too,” she said.

She joined Kendrick, Godfrey, Steffen, Aberthol, and all of her advisors as they followed the masses, exiting the gates of King’s Court, this time, Gwendolyn knew, for good.