A March of Kings - By Morgan Rice Page 0,10

any blade. Wherever it was, it was now in the river’s tides, being washed away into anonymity. If his father should die on this night, there would be no evidence left to trace the murderer.

Or would there?

CHAPTER FIVE

Thor followed on Reese’s heels, Krohn behind him as they weaved their way through the back passageway to his father’s chamber. Reese had brought him through a secret door, hidden in one of the stone walls, and as Reese held a torch, they walked single file in the cramped space, working their way through the inner guts of the castle in a dizzying array of twists and turns. They ascended a narrow, stone staircase, which led to another passageway. They turned, and before them was another staircase. Thor marveled at how intricate this passage was.

“This passageway was built into the castle hundreds of years ago,” Reese explained in a whisper as they went, breathing hard as he climbed. “It was built by my father’s great-grandfather, the third MacGil king. He had it built after a siege—it’s an escape route. Ironically, we were never under siege since, and these passageways haven’t been used in centuries. They were boarded up and I discovered them years ago. I like to use them from time to time. I can get around the castle and no one knows where I am. When we were younger, Gwen and Godfrey and I would play hide and seek in them. Kendrick was too old, and Gareth didn’t like to play with us. No torches, that was the rule. Pitch black. It was terrifying at the time.”

Thor tried to keep up as Reese navigated the passage with a stunning display of virtuosity, obvious that he knew every step by heart.

“How do you possibly remember all these turns?” Thor asked in awe.

“You get lonely growing up as a boy in this castle,” Reese continued, “especially when everyone else is older, and you’re too young to join the Legion, and there’s nothing else to do. I made it my mission to discover every nook and cranny of this place.”

They turned again, went down three stone steps, turned through a narrow opening in the wall, then went down a long stairwell. Finally, Reese brought them to a thick, oak door, covered in dust. He leaned one ear against it and listened. Thor came up beside him.

“What door is this?” Thor asked

“Shhh,” Reese said.

Thor grew quiet, as he hunched over and put his ear against the door, listening. Krohn stood there behind him, looking up.

“It is the back door to my father’s chamber,” Reese whispered. “I want to hear who’s in there with him.”

Thor listened, his heart pounding, to the muffled voices behind the door.

“Sounds like the room is full,” Reese said.

Reese turned and gave Thor a meaningful look.

“You will be walking into a firestorm. His generals will be there, his council, his advisers, his family—everyone. And I’m sure every one of them will be on the lookout for you, his supposed murderer. It will be like walking into a lynching mob. If my father still thinks you did it, you’ll be finished. Are you sure you want to do this?”

Thor swallowed hard. It was now or never. His throat went dry, as he realized this was one of the turning moments of his life. It would be easy to turn back now, to flee. He could live a safe life somewhere, far from King’s Court. Or he could pass through that door and potentially spend the rest of his life in the dungeon, with those cretins—or even executed.

He breathed deep, and decided. He had to face his demons head-on. He could not back away.

Thor nodded. He was afraid to open his mouth, afraid that if he did, he might change his mind.

Reese nodded back, with a look of approval, then pushed the iron handle and leaned his shoulder into the door.

Thor squinted in the bright torchlight as the door flew open. He found himself standing in the center of the king’s private chamber, Krohn and Reese beside him.

There were at least two dozen people crammed in around the king, who lay on his bed; some stood over him, others knelt. Surrounding the king were his advisers and generals, along with Argon, the Queen, Kendrick, Godfrey—even Gwendolyn. It was a death vigil, and Thor was intruding on his family’s private affair.

The atmosphere in the room was somber, the faces grave. MacGil lay propped up on pillows, and Thor was relieved to see that he was still