A March of Kings - By Morgan Rice Page 0,31

did it, about distant worlds out there. He wondered if there were planets that weren’t divided by canyons, seas that weren’t protected by dragons, kingdoms that were not divided by armies. He wondered about the nature of fate and destiny.

The fire crackled, and he looked over at the roaring flames, around which sat his brothers-in-arms, hunched over, arms resting on their knees, looking somber and on-edge. Some of them roasted pieces of meat on sticks.

“Want one?” came a voice.

Thor turned and saw Reese, sitting beside him, holding out a stick wrapped in a white, gooey substance. He looked around and saw that they were being passed around to other boys around the fire.

“What is it?” Thor asked, as he took it and touched the white mass. It was sticky.

“Sap from the Sigil Tree. You roast it. Wait until it turns purple. It’s delicious. And it will be the last tasty thing you have in a while.”

Thor watched the other boys holding their sticks into the fire, watched as the white substance hissed. He held his out, too, into the flames, and was amazed as the substance bubbled over, then turned colors. It turned all the colors of the rainbow before it turned purple.

He pulled it out and tasted it, and was amazed at how good it was. It was sweet and chewy, and he took bite after bite.

Seated on his other side, chewing happily, were Elden, O’Connor, and the twins. As Thor looked around, he realized that the Legion fell into natural cliques. With the ages ranging from 14 to 19, and with nearly a hundred boys in the Legion, there were a dozen boys in each age range. The 19 year olds barely acknowledged the 14-year-olds, and each year seemed to stick to itself. Looking at the faces of the 19 year olds, Thor could hardly conceive how much older they looked, like full-grown men, compared to the boys his age. They looked almost too old to even still be in the Legion.

“Are they coming, too?” Thor asked Reese. He did not need to ask where. The Hundred was on everyone’s mind this night, and no one seemed to think or talk of anything else.

“Of course,” Reese answered. “Everyone goes. No exceptions. Every age range.”

“The only difference,” Elden interceded, “is that when they return, they are done with the Legion. It only goes to 19. And then they graduate.”

“And then what?” Thor asked.

“If they make it through their final Hundred,” Reese answered, “then they go before the King, and the King chooses which become Knights. Then, if they are chosen, the kingdom places them in posts for patrol duty throughout the kingdom. They have to do two years of rotation. Then they return to King’s Court, and are eligible to join The Silver.”

“Is it possible that they wouldn’t pass the Hundred? After all these years?” Thor asked.

Reese furrowed his brow.

“It is different for every age and every year. I know stories of many who have not made it, at any age.”

The group of boys fell silent, as Thor stared into the flames, wondering what lay ahead of them. After a long while, there was a commotion, and the boys turned to see Kolk marching into the center of the circle, his back to the flames, flanked by two warriors. Kolk scowled down at the boys, slowly pacing, looking each one in the eye as he went.

“Rest up, and eat up,” he said. “This will be the last time you do. From here on, you’re no longer boys, but men. You’re about to embark on the hardest hundred days of your life. When you return—if you return—those of you who return will finally be worth something. Now, you’re nothing.”

Kolk continued pacing, walking slowly, looking as if he wanted to strike fear into each and every one of them.

“The Hundred is not a test,” he continued. “It is not practice. It is real. What you do here, the sparring, the training—that is practice. But in the next hundred days, that is all gone. You will be entering a war zone. We are crossing the Canyon, will be beyond the shield, trekking for miles through the Wilds, into unguarded territory. We will be boarding ships, and crossing the Tartuvian Sea. We will be in enemy waters, far from the coast. We will be going to an island that is unmanned and unprotected from attack, in the heart of the Empire. We could be ambushed any time. There will be enemy forces all