A Vow of Glory

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Krohn whined and licked Thor’s face until finally, slowly, Thor opened his eyes. He discovered himself lying face-first on the sand; sand was in his lips, on his tongue, in his eyes.

Thor blinked several times, then slowly sat up, wiping away the sand and reaching over and kissing Krohn and stroking his head. He looked around, trying to get his bearings, to remember where he was.

Beneath the muted light of the first sun, Thor saw all of his friends spread out on the beach, supine in the sand around him. Thankfully, they all looked alive—and after doing a quick head count, he saw they were all there. All of them, plus one: a girl, with long, tousled hair spread out on the sand.

Thor tried to remember. Suddenly, it came rushing back: the slave girl, the one Elden had saved. He sat up, squinting, stretching his aching muscles, trying to remember exactly what had happened.

The last thing he remembered, he was on fire, jumping into the icy-cold water of the rapids. Luckily he had been but a few feet from the water when he caught fire, and it all happened so quickly, he had landed in the water before the flames could burn him. He checked his skin, and while he was sore, his muscles aching, and all bruised up, he was not burnt. He sighed in relief.

Thor remembered the wild ride downriver, all of them tumbling end-over-end in the rapids, thrown downstream. He remembered glancing back, once, right before his head impacted with a log, and seeing the group of Empire soldiers, already far upriver, all consumed by an enormous burst of flame.

Thor reached up and felt a big lump on his head, sore to the touch, and realized he must have passed out along the way. They all somehow made it to this shore, and must’ve slept the night here. It was a narrow, smooth white beach, beside a raging river. The sound of the raging water was relentless, and Thor rose and turned and looked in all directions, wanting to see what else was out there.

On the other side of the beach stood a grove of trees, and behind it the river forked, splitting off in a calm, peaceful current. The grove led into a deep and broad forest, a winding trail leading into it. They seemed to have washed up at an intersection of sorts.

“And we thought you were going to sleep all day,” came a voice which Thor dimly recognized.

Thor spun, as did Krohn beside him, and could not believe who he saw standing there, behind him. Three boys, legion members, dressed in shiny new armor, bearing new weaponry, and staring down at him with a look he’d encountered his entire life.

It was the three people he had been raised to believe were his three brothers: Drake, Dross and Durs.

Thor was speechless.

Thor couldn’t imagine what they were doing here, and he rubbed his eyes, wondering if he were dreaming. But they were still there, and he realized it was real.

Thor rose to his feet, eyes wide with wonder, trying to comprehend it all.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “How did you get here?”

All around Thor, his Legion brothers began to arise, the slave girl, too, slowly gaining their feet, brushing off the sand, and gathering around Thor. They all looked back at Drake, Dross and Durs with equal looks of wonder.

“We came here to help,” Drake said. “We were sent by Kolk, shortly after you left. We followed your trail. After you left they felt bad, the six of you going it alone. They wanted to send you reinforcements.”

“They also received new information,” Dross said, stepping forward with a scroll in hand, “from a thief they caught connected to the theft of the Sword. He confessed as to where in the Empire it was being taken. He drew us a map.”

Dross rolled out the scroll before them, and they all gathered around and examined it.

“We know where they’re going,” Durs said. “We’ve come to lead you there. And to help you make it back alive.”

“And why didn’t you volunteer to help us sooner?” Reece shot back, defensive.

“You come now,” Elden added, guarded. “Only when you are commanded to.”

“We are doing just fine without your help,” O’Connor said.

“Are you?” Drake asked, looking them up and down with contempt. “It looks to me as if you’re lost, all washed up and bruised from battle.”

“You’ve even managed to pick up baggage along the way,” Dross added, looking contemptuously at the slave girl.

Thor, though guarded, appreciated their being here, and wanted to diffuse the argument.

“How did you find us?” Thor asked.

“A good tracker and plenty of King’s Gold,” Dross answered. “We managed to follow your trail. Quite a calamitous one. Amazing that you escaped from Slave City the way you did. We circumvented it ourselves, but luckily the rapids lead but one way, and we had only to follow them to lead to you. Hard to miss: the seven of you sprawled out on the sand like a bunch of drunks. I’d say you are all hardly inconspicuous.”

The three brothers laughed derisively.

“Way to set up camp,” Durs added.

Thor reddened, and saw his Legion brothers seething.

“Like they said,” Thor said, assuming authority. “We don’t need your insults. Or your help. We made it this far on our own—and without a map, without a tracker, and without King’s Gold.”

The three brothers looked at him with something like surprise, and Thor was impressed by the authority in his own voice. His entire life he had been bullied by these three boys, and he wasn’t about to be bullied by them now, to have them assume control of the mission. He knew their nature—and it was not kind. Whatever help they were offering, he was sure it was only because they were commanded to, or only for their own personal gain upon their return. He knew that, deep down, they didn’t truly care for him.

He expected their faces to harden, for them to argue with him, as they always did, to try to demean him. But to his surprise, Drake’s face softened and he stepped forward and lowered his voice.

“Thor, we understand you’re upset with us. In fact, it is warranted. We were not kind to you as brothers. For that, we apologize. We are not here to demean you, or to undermine your authority. We realize you have command of this mission. We sincerely wish to help you. Please. The fate of the entire Ring is at stake, and the map we hold is invaluable.”

Thor was caught off guard by Drake’s kind tone, at his deferring to his authority. He had never seen them like this. It was surreal, as if he were not looking at the same three people.

He thought of what he’d said, and it made sense. The fate of the Ring was what was most important, whatever personal differences they had. And despite the past, Thor was always willing to give someone another chance—especially if they seemed sincere.

Slowly, he nodded back to them.

“In that case,” he said, “we shall be pleased to have you.”

The three of them nodded back, pleased. Thor looked past them, at the fork in the river, and saw their longboat anchored at its shore; it looked like a long canoe, large enough to hold maybe a dozen.

“To reach the thieves’ destination,” Dross said, looking down at the map, “we must get back on the river and take it south. It will bring us to a great lake, and then to other channels. It is the most direct way to find them, cutting them off and gaining us time. If you agree, let us leave at once—we haven’t any more time to waste.”

They all began to turn and head for the boat—when the slave girl stepped forward.

“You are wrong!” she yelled out.

They all stopped and turned and looked at her.

“The thieves would not have gone that way,” she said. “I don’t care what your map says. I know my native land better than you. Do you see that forest?” she asked, turning and pointing to the grove of trees. “That is where they went.”

“And how would you know that?” Drake asked her.

“Because this river leads to death,” she said. “It is not a path they would take. To cross the great divide, there is no safe way but through this forest. It borders the desertlands.”

Thor looked at the trees, then back to the rapids, and wondered.

“And who is this woman who knows everything?” Durs sneered.

Elden stepped forward and draped an arm around her shoulder.

“She is a girl I freed from Slave City,” Elden said, “and I trust her. She led us out of there.”

“You don’t even know her,” Drake said.

“I know her enough,” Elden said.

“And then what is her name?” Dross asked.

Elden blushed, and the three brothers laughed at him.

“In these lands we are forbidden to have a name,” she called out. “But I have taken a secret name upon myself. It is Indra.”

“Well, Indra, we are not interested in your tribal tales. We are men, and we fear no river. We go where the thieves lead us—and we will take this river where it leads,” Drake said firmly. “If you are afraid of water, you can stay on dry land. This is a mission of the Legion: no one is asking you to join us.”

The three brothers all turned and headed for the boat, and as the others looked to Thor, he stood there, wavering. His logic told him to go to the boat; yet something inside him was wavering.

He finally walked to Indra.

“Come with us to the boat,” he said. “If we don’t find what we need, we can always turn back and follow your trail.”

She slowly shook her head.

“That river leads to darkness and death,” she said, throwing off Elden’s hand, and storming for the boat. She nonetheless joined the others as they entered the boat. Before she did, she looked back at Thor angrily.

“Just be prepared,” she said, as Thor and the others piled in. “You board a boat to hell.”

They all paddled on the still waters of a vast lake, and Thor wondered if this would ever end. They had all been paddling for hours, and finally settled into a comfortable silence, paddling in unison as this new body of water seemed to stretch forever. It felt like an ocean, with no land in sight, yet its waters were completely still, with no breeze to be had.

Thor was still trying to process seeing his three “brothers” again, their new kindness to him, and what this could mean for their mission. If their map was accurate and not the dream of some desperate thief, then their appearance could be a godsend, exactly what they needed to find the Sword and bring it back. But the words of the slave girl rang in his head, and he could not help wondering, with every stroke, if they were going the wrong way, if his brothers were being played by this thief and his map.

“Where are you from?” Elden asked the girl softly, seated beside her. Thor was but a few inches away, and could not help but hear, despite Elden’s speaking softly. Elden had been trying to engage her for quite some time, and she had seemed aloof. Thor could see that Elden had taken a real liking to her. It was the first time he had seen Elden this way.

“From a place you’ve never heard of,” she answered, “and a place you’d never want to go. It’s just another slave town on the periphery of the Empire. They rounded us up to Slave City about a year ago. Not all of us. Just me. My family, they killed on the spot.”

Elden shook his head.

“You are a slave no more. Now you are free.”

She shrugged.

“What does being free really mean? The entire Empire are slaves to the Empire. Show me a place that is truly free.”

“The Ring is truly free,” Elden insisted.

She grunted.

“And for how long?” she countered. “Soon you will be overrun, like us, and you will answer to the Great Andronicus. Just like all of us.”

“Never!” snapped Elden. “You don’t know me. You can’t say that.”

She shrugged.

“I know Andronicus. Nothing can stop him. Nothing. Not even your Ring, with its Canyon, and its missing Sword. You live in fantasy. I am a realist.”

“You are a cynic,” Elden corrected. “You clearly lost your ideals long ago. I myself have not. I will never become a slave. I will never answer to Andronicus. And my people will never go down. If they do, I will go down fighting with them.”

She shrugged, unimpressed.

“Then you will go down,” she said. “As I said, like everyone else, you will succumb to Andronicus—one way or another.”

The boat fell into a gloomy silence as they continued to paddle, deeper and deeper into the unknown, the only sound that of the lapping water.

The second sun climbed to its peak, burning hot, reflecting off of everything. The lake was like a huge mirror, shining white, light bouncing off of everything. It was like paddling into heaven.

Just as Thor was beginning to wonder, once again, if they were heading in the right direction, suddenly, a soft sound began to rise on the horizon. It was so soft, at first Thor wondered if he were imagining it. It sounded like a song, like a distant, soft song in a woman’s voice, rising and falling. It sounded like a chorus of women. It was the sweetest and softest sound Thor had ever heard, echoing off the water. He wondered if he were dreaming.

From the looks on the faces of the others, who suddenly stopped paddling and looked in that direction, Thor knew he was not alone in hearing it.

“The song of the Sentions,” Indra said, with fear. “You must turn the boat around!”

“What do you mean?” Thor asked, alarmed.

Indra looked frantic, looking every which way, as if trying to get off the boat.

“That island,” she said, “it is an island of seductresses! The music is meant to draw passersby in. Music that men cannot resist. Once they arrive, they are killed and eaten. You must turn around at once!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Dross. “We are following the trail to the Sword.”

But Thor was beginning to feel a strange feeling pass over him, a tingling throughout his body—a lust. The more he heard that music, the closer they came, the more this feeling intensified, the more he needed to hear it. He had never experienced anything like it—it was as if his body had been taken over by a life-or-death desire to hear their song. He would have killed anyone or anything that got in his way.

His fellow passengers—except for Indra—clearly all felt the same, turning towards it, hypnotized, paddling hard as a sudden current picked up and pulled them in one direction towards the music.

A small island began to come into view, in the center of which sat a round, low building, made of a shining white marble. On the shores of the island stood a group of women, wearing white flowing robes, with long brown hair spilling down to their lower backs, each leaning back, palms out, and singing. The chorus of voices grew louder, the tide stronger, and before he knew it, Thor and the others were at the edge of the island.

Thor’s heart was pounding with a desire to be with these women; he could think of nothing else. He could not even think of Gwendolyn. It was as if his mind had been taken.

“Turn around!” Indra yelled, frantic.

But nothing could stop them now. The current grew even stronger, racing them towards the island, and in moments their boat was lodged firmly on the sand, several women waiting to pull it ashore. They reached out with their long, delicate hands and each grabbed a piece of the boat and pulled them up.

Thor was electrified by the feel of a woman’s touch as she grabbed his, smiling and singing the whole time as she guided him off the boat onto the sand. He let her guide him, unable to resist, up a set of endless marble steps to their island. Beside him, Krohn snarled and whined, and Indra shouted. But Thor could barely hear them, all sounds but the song muted, fading. He walked with all of his legion brothers, all of them allowing themselves to be lead.

Each of the boys was led by a woman who took his hand, smiling sweetly, singing, leading them deeper and deeper into the island. As they went, Thor saw that the island was covered in the most beautiful fruit trees he had ever seen, orange and red and yellow fruits hanging low, branches flowering, flooding the place with delicate aromas. There also came the smell of distant cooking, making Thor’s stomach growl.

Thor heard Indra screaming, then heard her being gagged and muffled; he turned and watched the women pounce on her, binding her hands behind her back and carrying her off. Some part of Thor wanted to help her, to stop all of this. But a bigger part of him was under a spell, so deep that he would have walked off the edge of the world if these women had led him there.

At last, he had found his true home. And he never wanted to leave.