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

feel like
going down to the Great Hall.
    “My liege, our spies have told us of a
McCloud contingent of men, riding east, for the Fabian Sea. And our scouts in
the south report a caravan of empire ships, heading north. Surely they must be
heading there to meet the McClouds.”
    MacGil tried to process this
information, his brain moving too slowly in his drunken state.
    “And?” he prodded, impatient, tired. He
was so exhausted by the endless machinations and speculations and subterfuges
of his court.
    “If the McClouds are truly meeting with
the Empire, there can only be one purpose,” Brom continued. “To conspire to
breach the Canyon and overthrow the Ring.”
    MacGil looked up at his old commander, a
man who he had fought alongside for thirty years, and could see the deadly
seriousness in his eyes. He could also see fear. That disturbed him: this was
not a man he had ever seen fear anything.
    MacGil slowly rose, to his full height,
which was still considerable, and turned and walked across the room, until he
reached the window. He looked out, surveying his court below, empty in the
early morning, and pondered. He knew, all along, that one day a day like this
would come. He just had not expected it to come so soon.
    “That was quick,” he said. “It’s been
but days since I married off my daughter to their prince. And now you think
they already conspire to overthrow us?”
    “I do, my liege,” Brom responded
sincerely. “I see no other reason. All indications are it is a peaceful
meeting. Not a military one.”
    MacGil slowly shook his head.
    “But it does not make sense. They could
not let the Empire in. Why would they? Even if for some reason they managed to
help lower the Shield on our side and open a breach, then what would happen?
The Empire would overwhelm them as well. They would not be safe, either.
Surely, they know this.”
    “Maybe they are going to strike a deal,”
Brom retorted. “Maybe they will let the Empire in, in return for their
attacking us only, so that the McClouds can control the Ring.”
    MacGil shook his head.
    “The McClouds are too smart for that.
They are crafty. They know that the Empire cannot be trusted.”
    His general shrugged.
    “Maybe they want control of the Ring so
badly, they are willing to take that chance. Especially now that they have your
daughter as their queen.”
    MacGil thought about this. His head was
pounding. He did not want to deal with this now. Not so early in the morning.
    “So then what do you propose?” he asked,
short with him, tired of all the speculation.
    “We could preempt this, sire, and attack
the McClouds. The time is now.”
    MacGil could hardly believe it.
    “Right after I gave my daughter to them
in a wedding? I don’t think so.”
    “If we don’t,” Brom countered, “we allow
them to dig our grave. Surely they will attack us. If not now, then later. And
if they join with the empire, we would be finished.”
    “They cannot cross the Highlands so
easily. We control all the choke points. It would be a slaughter. Even with the
empire in tow.”
    “The empire have millions of men to
spare,” Kolk responded. “They can afford to be slaughtered.”
    “Even with the shield down,” MacGil
said, “it would not be so easy to just march millions of soldiers across the
Canyon—or across the Highlands, or to approach by ship. We would spot such
mobilization far in advance. We would have warning.”
    MacGil thought.
    “No, we will not attack. But for now, we
can take a prudent step: double our patrols at the Highlands. Strengthen our
fortifications. And double our spies. That will be all.”
    “Yes, my liege,” Brom said, turning,
with his lieutenants and hurrying from the room.
    MacGil turned back to the window, his
head pounding. He sensed war on the horizon, coming at him with the
inevitability of a winter storm. He sensed, further, that there was nothing he
could do about it. He looked all around him, at his castle, at the stone, at
the pristine royal court spread out beneath him, and could not help but wonder
how long all this would last.
    What he would give for another drink.

CHAPTER
TWENTY FOUR
     
     
    Thor felt a foot nudging him in his ribs
and slowly peeled opened his eyes. He lay face down, on a mound of straw, and
for a moment had no idea where he was. His head felt like it weighed a million
pounds, his throat was drier than it had ever been, and his eyes and head were
killing him. He felt as if he’d fallen off