and safe.”
“Did you see this man’s face?” Godfrey asked.
The boy nodded, slowly.
“He was a tall man. Taller than any man I’d ever seen. And he was missing a tooth.”
“On the right side?” Godfrey asked.
The boy nodded, his eyes opened wide. “How did you know?”
Godfrey knew, all too well. It was Afget, Gareth’s new attack dog. There was no one else who fit that description. And now he had a witness. He had a witness that proved that Gareth’s man attempted assassination on him, the King’s son. It was grounds to have him deposed. It was the proof they needed.
“I need your son to be a witness,” Godfrey said to his father. “What he witnessed is of importance not just to me, but to the kingdom itself, to all of King’s court. To the entire Ring. I need him to testify. It will make amends for his brother trying to take my life. None of you will be in danger. You will all be protected, I guarantee it. You can keep all this gold and more.”
A thick silence hung over the room, as they all turned to the boy.
“Blaine, it is your choice,” the father said.
Blaine looked Godfrey up and down, then looked at his parents.
“Do you promise my parents will be safe?” Blaine asked Godfrey. “And that they can keep all the gold?”
Godfrey smiled.
“All of this and more,” he reassured. “And yes, you have my word. You will all be safer than you’ve ever been.”
Finally, Blaine shrugged.
“Then I don’t see why not. After all, like you said, papa, it never hurts to tell the truth.”
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Thor galloped back across the desert, getting farther which each step from his hometown, from memories of his encounter with his father—or, rather, the man who had raised him. It had been a life-changing trip, both dreadful and inspiring. The encounter had been painful, yet it had also finally given him the clarity he had always sought. His entire life he had suspected that he was different from his father, from his brothers, from his village; that he didn’t belong there; that some great secret about his past was being hidden from him; that he was destined for something, some place, greater.
Now, finally, after hearing everything his father had to say—that he was not really his father, that those were not really his brothers—that his mother was alive—that he was truly different—it all made perfect sense. Despite the troubling confrontation, he finally felt a sense of ease, deeper than he’d ever felt in his life. He was finally beginning to peel back the layers of the mystery of his true identity, to understand more of who he was.
Thor kept turning over in his mind all the things his father said. He was overjoyed to know that his mother was alive, that she cared for him; he could feel her necklace against his bare throat even as he rode, and the feeling comforted him, made him feel as if his mother were right there with him. He could feel an intense energy radiating off of it, and it filled his whole being. She really cared for him. He could sense that. And she wanted to see him. That meant more to him than anything. He was more determined than ever to find her.
But then he couldn’t help wonder: if she cared so much for him, why had she given him away to begin with? And why to that man who raised him, and why in that village?
Another question perplexed him even more: who, then, was his real father? The mystery baffled him. Now, not only did he not know who his mother was, but he did not know who his real father was, either. It could be anyone. Was he a Druid, too? Did he live in the Ring? And why had his father abandoned him, too?
Thor felt the ring his mother had given him sitting snug in his inner shirt pocket, and his mind turned to thoughts of Gwendolyn. More than ever, he knew she was the one. He sensed that this ring had come into his life now for a reason, that he was meant to give it to her. He couldn’t wait to return and ask her to be his—and if she said yes, to place it on her finger. It was the most beautiful ring he had ever seen, and the idea of her accepting it thrilled him.
Thor kicked his horse, eager to return to his Legion brothers as the second