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

his
life, that they could. He wanted to be with her now, even more than he wanted
to be in the Legion.
    As he was thinking these thoughts, there
came a sudden rustling in the grass, and the two of them, startled, turned.
Khron leapt through the grass, just feet away, and there came another rustling
noise. Khron yelped, then growled—then their came a hissing noise. Finally, it
was quiet.
    Gwen rolled off Thor as they both sat up
and looked. Thor jumped to his feet, protective of Gwen, wondering what it
could be. He didn’t see anyone for miles. But someone—or something—must be there,
just feet away, in the tall grass.
    Khron appeared before them, and in his
mouth, in his small, razor-sharp teeth, there dangled a huge, limp white snake.
It must have been ten feet long, its skin a brilliant, shining white, as thick
as a large tree branch.
    Thor realized in an instant what had
happened: Khron had spared the two of them from an attack by this deadly
reptile. His heart rushed with gratitude for the cub.
    Gwen gasped.
    “A whiteback,” she said. “The most
lethal reptile of the entire kingdom.”
    Thor stared at it, in awe.
    “I thought this snake did not exist. I
thought it was just a legend.”
    “It is very rare,” Gwen said. “I’ve only
see one in my lifetime. The day my father’s father was killed. It is an omen.”
    She turned and looked at Thor.
    “It means death is coming. The death of
someone very close.”
    Thor felt a chill on his spine. A sudden
cold breeze ran through the meadow on this summer day, he knew, with absolute
certainty, that she was right.

CHAPTER
TWENTY FIVE
     
     
    Gwendolyn
walked alone through the castle, taking the spiral staircase, twisting and
turning her way to the top. Her mind raced with thoughts of Thor. Of their
walk. Of their kiss. And then, of that snake.
    She
burned with conflicting emotions. On the one hand, she had been elated to be
with him; on the other, she was terror-stricken by that snake, by the omen of
death it brought. But she did not know for whom, and she could not get that out
of her mind either. She feared it was for someone in her family. Could it be
one of her brothers? Godfrey? Kendrick? Could it be her mother? Or, she
shuddered to even think, her father?
    The
sight of that snake had cast a somber shadow on their joyous day, and once
their mood had been shattered, they had been unable to get it back. They had
made their way back together to the court, parting ways right before they came
out of the woods, so they would not be seen. The last thing she wanted was for
her mother to catch them together. But Gwen would not give up Thor so easily,
and she would find a way to combat her mother; she needed time to figure out
her strategy.
    It
had been painful to part with Thor; thinking back on it, she felt badly. She
had meant to ask him if he would see her again, had meant to make a plan for
another day. But she had been in a daze, so distraught by the sight of that
snake that she had forgotten. Now she worried that he thought she didn’t care
for him.
    The
second she had arrived at King’s Court, her father’s servants had summoned her.
She had been ascending the steps ever since, her heart beating, wondering why
he wanted to see her. Had she had been spotted with Thor? There could be no
other reason her father wanted to see her so urgently. Was he, too, going to
forbid her to see him? She could hardly imagine that he would. He had always
taken her side.
    Gwen,
nearly out of breath, finally reached the top. She hurried down the corridor,
passed the attendants who snapped to attention and opened the door for her to
her father’s chamber. Two more servants, waiting inside, bowed at her presence.
    “Leave
us,” her father said to them.
    They
bowed and hurried from the room, closing the door behind them with a
reverberating echo.
    Her
father rose from his desk, a big smile on his face, and ventured towards her
across the vast chamber. She felt at ease, as she always did, at the sight of
him, and felt relieved to see no anger in his expression.
    “My
Gwendolyn,” he said.
    He
held out his arms and embraced her in a big hug. She embraced him back, and he
directed her to two huge chairs, placed on an angle beside the roaring fire.
Several large dogs, wolfhounds, most of whom she had known since childhood, got
out of their way as they walked towards the fire. Two of them followed her, and
rested their heads in her lap. She was glad for the fire: it had