A Feast of Dragons - By Morgan Rice Page 0,40
Kendrick, she would do it.
“I don’t know how she could help,” Kendrick said. “She has been unable to speak since the death of our father. And even if she were, Gareth is king now. She is no longer queen. Her remaining influence, if any, is finite.”
“But she was queen only days ago,” Gwen countered. “Many people still answer to her, still fear and respect her and will defer to her wishes—especially those loyal to our father.”
Kendrick nodded back.
“I concede there is a chance,” he said.
He reached out, and grabbed both of her hands in his.
“Whatever happens, I want you to know that our father was right to choose you as the next ruler. I didn’t see it before, but I see it now. He had been right all along.”
Gwen looked back to him, her heart welling with gratitude.
“Also know that I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too,” she said, her eyes welling up. “Know that I will not let you die in here. I will allow myself to die first.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Thor descended down the mountain for the caves of the Cyclops, the sunset sky breaking all around him, lighting the world in a million shades of scarlet, and he felt as if he were being marched to his death—as if he were descending into hell itself.
He marched, the Legion members a safe distance behind him, Malic beside him, both of them still bound, Krohn to his side, the shouts of the beast, concealed in the cave, growing louder. The earth trembled as they went, and Thor could only imagine the ire of this beast.
Thor hated Malic with a passion reserved for no other. He had been unfairly setup because of him, unfairly accused, dragged into this, his potential death. Thor only prayed that the legend of the Cyclops held true—and that only the guilty one would be killed.
Thor thought back to that scene on the sparring field, and he remembered Malic’s trying to kill him first. He still didn’t really understand what had happened, or why.
“Before we are sent to our deaths,” Thor said to Malic, walking side by side, “tell me one thing. Why did you do it? Why did you try to kill me back there? And when you failed, why did you then kill that man?”
Malic continued walking, and, to Thor’s surprise, even as he was being marched to his death, he smiled, as if he enjoyed this. This boy was truly sick.
“I never liked you,” Malic said. “From the moment I met you. But that was not the reason. I was paid handsomely for it—to kill you.”
Thor was aghast.
“Paid?” he asked.
“You have very rich enemies. I gladly took their fee for attempting something I wanted to do myself.”
“Then why did you kill that man I was wrestling with?” Thor asked. “What has he to do with me?”
“When I missed my chance to kill you,” Malic said, “I figured my next best chance was to kill him and pin it on you. Then the warriors would kill you, and save me the trouble.”
Thor frowned.
“Well it didn’t work out that way, did it?” Thor asked.
“You will die by the Cyclops hand,” Malic said.
“But so will you,” Thor countered.
Malic shrugged.
“Everybody has to die sometime,” he said, then fell into silence.
Thor could not understand him—he truly seemed apathetic to life. He wondered what evil had befallen him to make him this way.
“Just tell me one more thing before your death,” Thor urged. “Who paid you? Who are my enemies?”
Malic continued walking, silent. Clearly, he was done speaking.
“Well,” Thor concluded, “I hope you’re satisfied. Now you’re going to get us both killed.”
“Wrong,” Malic said. “I don’t believe in legends and fairytales. The monster won’t kill me. I am stronger than any monster. It will only kill one of us. And it will be you.”
Thor looked at him with a hatred beyond calculation.
“I would kill you right now, if I could,” Thor said.
Malic smiled.
“Then too bad we are both bound.”
They continued marching, silently, getting ever closer, the sky turning darker, and the monster’s roars growing louder.
“I like you,” Malic said, surprising Thor. “In another life, we would be friends.”
Thor looked at him, unbelieving.
“You are sick,” Thor said. “I don’t understand you. You said you hated me. We would never be friends. I am not friends with liars—or murderers.”
Malic threw his head back and laughed loudly.
“Lying and murdering is the way of the world,” he answered. “At least I am bold enough to admit it. Everyone else hides and cowers behind a