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

never.
    “I want to join the Legion!” Thor
said.
    The soldier turned and stepped
towards Thor.
    “Do you now?”
    He looked amused.
    “And have you even reached your
fourteenth year?”
    “I did, sire. Two weeks ago.”
    “ Two weeks ago !”
    The soldier shrieked with
laughter, as did the men behind them.
    “In that case, our enemies shall
surely quiver at the sight of you.”
    Thor felt himself burning with
indignity. He had to do something. He couldn’t let it end like this. The
soldier turned his back to walk away—but Thor could not allow it.
    Thor stepped forward and
screamed: “Sire! You are making a mistake!”
    A horrified gasp spread through
the crowd, as the soldier stopped and slowly turned.
    Now, he was scowling.
    “Stupid boy,” his father said,
grabbing Thor by his shoulder, “go back inside!”
    “I shall not!” Thor yelled,
shaking off his father’s grip.
    The soldier stepped towards Thor,
and his father backed away.
    “Do you know the punishment for
insulting The Silver?” the soldier snapped.
    Thor’s heart pounded, but he knew
he could not back down.
    “Please forgive him, sire,” his
father said. “He’s a young child and—”
    “I’m not speaking to you,” the
soldier said. With a withering look, he forced Thor’s father to turn away.
    The soldier turned back to Thor.
    “Answer me!” he said.
    Thor swallowed, unable to speak.
This was not how he saw it going in his head.
    “To insult The Silver is to
insult the King himself,” Thor said meekly, reciting what he’d learned from
memory.
    “Yes,” the soldier said. “Which
means I can give you forty lashes if I choose.”
    “I mean no insult, sire,” Thor
said. “I just want to be picked. Please. I’ve dreamt of this my entire life.
Please. Let me join you.”
    The soldier stood there, and
slowly, his expression softened. After a long while, he shook his head.
    “You’re young, boy. You have a
proud heart. But you’re not ready. Come back to us when you are weaned.”
    With that, he turned and stormed
off, barely glancing at the other boys. He quickly mounted his horse.
    Thor stood there, crestfallen,
and watched as the caravan broke into action; as quickly as they’d arrived,
they were gone.
    The last thing Thor saw was his
brothers, sitting in the back of the last carriage, looking out at him,
disapproving, mocking. They were being carted away before his eyes, away from
here, into a better life.
    Inside, Thor felt like dying.
    As the excitement faded all
around him, villagers slinked back into their homes.
    “Do you realize how stupid you
were, foolish boy?” Thor’s father snapped, grabbing his shoulders. “Do you
realize you could have ruined your brothers’ chances?”
    Thor brushed his father’s hands
off of him roughly, and his father reached back and backhanded him across the
face.
    Thor felt the sting of it and
glared back at his father. A part of him, for the first time, wanted to hit his
father back. But he held himself.
    “Go get my sheep and bring them
back. Now! And when you return, don’t expect a meal from me. You will miss your
meal tonight, and think about what you’ve done.”
    “Maybe I shall not come back at
all!” Thor yelled as he turned and stormed off, away from his home, toward the
hills.
    “Thor!” his father screamed, as
villagers stopped and watched.
    Thor broke into a trot, then a
run, wanting to get as far away from this place as possible. He barely noticed
he was crying, tears flooding his face, as every dream he’d ever had was
crushed.
     

CHAPTER TWO
     
     
    Thor wandered for hours in the
hills, seething, until finally he chose a hill and sat, arms crossed over his
legs, and watched the horizon. He watched the carriages disappear, watched the
cloud of dust that lingered for hours after.
    There would be no more visits.
Now he was destined to remain here, in this village, for years, awaiting another
chance—if they ever returned. If his father ever allowed it. Now it would be
just him and his father, alone in the house, and his father would surely let
out the full breadth of his wrath on him. He would continue to be his father’s
lackey, years would pass, and he would end up just like him, stuck here, living
a small, menial life—while his brothers gained glory and renown. His veins
burned with the indignity of it all: this was not the life he was meant to
live. He knew it.
    Thor wracked his brain for anything
he could do, any way he could change it.