Read The Sorcerer's Ring: Book 05 - A Vow of Glory for Free Online Page B

waves,
clinging to Gwen’s ankles.
    “We
are not far now, my lady," came the voice.
    Gwen
looked over to see Srog standing on her other side, dressed in the distinctive
red armor of Silesia and flanked by several of his warriors, all dressed in
their red chain mail and boots. Gwen had been touched by Srog’s kindness to
her, by his loyalty to the memory of her father, by his offering Silesia as a
refuge. She did not know what she, and all of these people, would have done
otherwise. They would still, even now, be stuck in King's Court, at the mercy
of Gareth’s treachery.
    Srog was
one of the most honorable lords she had ever met. With thousands of soldiers at
his disposal, with his control of the famed stronghold of the West, Silesia,
Srog had not needed to pay homage to anyone. But he paid homage to her father. It
had always been a delicate power balance. In the times of her father’s father, Silesia
had needed King’s Court; in her father’s times, less so; and in her time, not
at all. In fact, with the lowering of the Shield and the chaos at King’s Court,
they were the ones who needed Silesia. Of course, the Silver and Legion were
the finest warriors there were—as were the thousands of troops accompanying
Gwen, that comprised half of the King's army. Yet Srog, like most other lords,
could have simply lowered his gates and looked after his own.
    Instead,
he had sought Gwen out, had paid allegiance to her, and had insisted on hosting
all of them. It had been a kindness which Gwen was determined to somehow, one
day, repay. That is, if they all survived.
    "You
need not worry," she replied softly, laying a gentle hand on his wrist.
"We would march to the ends of the earth to enter your city. We are most
fortunate for your kindness in this difficult time.”
    Srog
smiled. A middle-aged warrior with too many lines etched into his face from
battle, red-brownish hair, a strong jaw line and no beard, Srog was a man's
man, not only a Lord, but a true warrior.
    "For
your father, I would walk through fire," he responded. "Thanks are
not in order. It is a great honor to be able to repay my debt to him in service
of his daughter. After all, it was his wish that you should rule. So when I
answer to you, I answer to him.”
    Near
Gwen also marched Kolk and Brom, and behind them all was the ever-present clatter
of thousands of spurs, of swords jingling in their scabbards, of shields
brushing up against armor. It was a huge cacophony of noise, heading farther
and farther north along the Canyon's edge.
    "My
lady," Kolk said, "I am burdened by guilt. We shouldn’t have let Thor,
Reece and the others head out alone into the Empire. More of us should have
volunteered to go with them. It will be on my head if anything should happen to
them."
    “It
was the quest they chose," Gwen responded. "It was a quest of honor. Whoever
was meant to go, has gone. Guilt does no one any good.”
    "And
what should happen if they don't return in time with the Sword?” Srog asked. “It
won’t be long until Andronicus’ army appears at our gates.”
    "Then
we shall make a stand," Gwen said confidently, raising as much courage in
her voice as she could, hoping to put others at ease. She noticed the other
generals turn and look at her.
    "We
will defend until the last blow,” she added. “There will be no retreat, no
surrender.”
    She
sensed the generals were impressed. She was impressed by her own voice, the
strength rising up within her, surprising even her. It was the strength of her
father, of seven generations of MacGil kings.
    As
they continued to march, the road curved sharply to the left, and as Gwen
turned the corner she stopped in her tracks, breathless at the site.
    Silesia.
    Gwen
remembered her father taking her on trips here, when she was a young girl. It was
a place that lingred in her dreams ever since, a place that had felt magic magical
to her then. Now, laying her eyes on it as a grown woman, it still felt
magical. It took her