A Quest of Heroes (Book #1 in the Sorcerer's Ring)

answer to me. And we have
a tournament in minutes. Are you going to just stand there when you been made
squire to the most famous knight in the kingdom? Follow me! Quickly!”
    Reece had already turned away,
and Thor turned and hurried after the squire as he ran across the field. He had
no idea where they were going—but he didn’t care. He was singing inside.
    He had made it.
     

CHAPTER
SEVEN
     
     
    Gareth
hurried across King’s court, dressed in his royal fineries, pushing his way
amidst the masses who poured in from all directions for his sister’s wedding,
and he fumed. He was still reeling from his encounter with his father. How was
it possible that he was skipped over? That his father would not choose him as
king? It made no sense. He was the firstborn legitimate son. That was the way
it had always worked. He had always, from the time he was born, assumed he
would reign—he had no reason to think otherwise.
    It
was unconscionable. Passing him over for a younger sibling—and a girl, no less.
When word spread, he would be the laughingstock of the kingdom. As he walked,
he felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him and he did not know how to
catch his breath.
    He
stumbled his way with the masses towards the wedding ceremony of his elder
sister. He looked about, saw the multitude of colored robes, the endless
streams of people, all the different folk from all the different provinces. He
hated being this close to commoners. This was the one time when the poor could
mingle with the rich, the one time those savages from the Eastern Kingdom, from
the far side of the Highlands, had been allowed in, too. Gareth still could
hardly conceive his sister was being married off to one of them. It was a
shrewd political move by his father, a pathetic attempt to make peace between
the kingdoms.
    Even
stranger, somehow, his sister actually seemed to like this creature. Gareth
could hardly conceive why. Knowing her, it was not the man she liked,
but the title, the chance to be queen of her own province. She would get what
she deserved: they were all savages, those on the other side of the Highlands.
In Gareth’s mind, they lacked his civility, his refinery, his sophistication.
It was not his problem. If his sister was happy, let her be married off. It was
just one less sibling to have around that might stand in his way to the throne.
In fact, the farther away she was, the better.
    Not
that any of this was his concern anymore. After today, he would never be king.
Now, he would be relegated to being just another anonymous prince in his
father’s kingdom. Now, he had no path to power; now he was doomed to a life of
mediocrity.
    His
father had underestimated him—he always had. His father considered himself
politically shrewd—but Gareth was much shrewder and always had been. For
instance: for marrying Luanda to a McCloud, his father thought himself a master
politician. But Gareth was more far-sighted than his father, was able to
consider more of the ramifications, and was already looking one step farther.
He knew where this would lead. Ultimately, this marriage would not appease the
McClouds but embolden them. They were brutes, so they would see this peace
offering not as a sign of strength, but of weakness. They would not care for a
bond between the families, and as soon as his sister was taken away, Gareth
felt certain they would plan an attack. It was all a ruse. He had tried to tell
his father, but he would not listen.
    Not
that any of this was his concern anymore. After all, now he was just another
prince, just another cog in the kingdom. Gareth positively burned at the
thought of it, and hated his father at that moment with a hatred he never knew
was possible. As he crammed in, shoulder to shoulder with the masses, he
imagined ways he could take revenge, ways he could get the kingship after all.
He could not just sit idly by, that was for certain. He could not let the
kingship go to his younger sister.
    “There
you are,” came a voice.
    It
was Firth, walking up beside him, wearing a jolly smile and revealing his perfect
teeth. 18, tall, thin, with a high voice and smooth skin and ruddy cheeks,
Firth was his lover of the moment. Gareth was usually happy to see him, but was
in no mood for him now.
    “I
think you have been avoiding me all day,” Firth added, linking one arm around
his as they walked.
    Gareth
immediately shook off his arm, and checked to make sure no one had seen.
    “Are
you stupid?” Gareth