The guards rushed to do her bidding, dragging Alton away as he screamed in protest the entire way.
"A wise decision my lady," Srog said in admiration.
"My lady, onto more important matters," Brom stepped forward. "We are receiving reports of the mobilization of Andronicus' army. It is hard to separate truth from rumor. But if most reports be true, we may not have as much time to prepare as we think. We must make our final preparations and lock down this city immediately.”
"This city was built with an outer layer of defense,” Srog added, “built for times like this. We can seal up our outer gates as well—but once we do, they cannot be opened. No one can come in or out.”
Gwen thought; she knew they needed to prepare, but she wasn't ready to seal the city just yet.
"My brother Kendrick is still out there," she said. "And so is Thorgrin and the other brave Legion members. I don't want to seal the city until they've had a chance to arrive.”
"Yes, my lady," Srog said.
Gwendolyn hoped beyond hope that Thor could return before they sealed the city gates; yet she knew, with a pang of sadness, that that would likely be impossible. She hated the idea of shutting him out.
"My lady, there is one more matter," Srog added, clearing his throat, hesitating. "This city was built with escape tunnels, deep beneath the surface. If we are in dire circumstances, there is a way for a few of us to get out. For you to get out. If we are completely surrounded, and our fortifications give way, Andronicus will destroy us all. We can get you to safety. Beyond the walls. Far from here.”
Gwendolyn was touched by the offer, but slowly, she shook her head.
"I'm deeply grateful," she said, "but I would never abandon any of you. Or this city. You have taken me in. I will treat it as my home. If Silesia goes down, we will all go down together. There will be no escape. Not for me.”
The men all looked at her with a new look, and she could see the respect in their eyes. For the first time, she was beginning to feel like a ruler. A true ruler. This was what it meant to rule, she felt. To lead by example.
Gwendolyn turned and looked out over the Canyon, at the swirling mists, lit up by the setting sun, and she thought once again, of Thor.
Please Thor, she willed. Come home to me.
CHAPTER TEN
Thor followed the boy closely, the others beside him, as they all finally emerged from the thick foliage of the jungle, the second sun long in the sky. It had been an arduous hike back up from the bottom of the crater, where the mudslide had taken them. It had felt as if they would never stop sliding, Thor and the others completely covered in mud as they slid hundreds of feet into a huge mud pit. They’d had to fight their way back up to the top, and it had taken too long.
Now it was almost dark, the boy more anxious than ever, constantly watching the sky, and the boy seemed immensely relieved as they entered the large clearing in the jungle, the first that Thor had seen. For a while he had been sure that they’d never surface from that mud pit—and that they’d never get out of this jungle.
Thor was surprised to see the large clearing before them, perhaps a hundred feet in each direction, and in the center of it, a small cottage. Smoke rose from its chimney, which Thor could understand, since the temperature had plummeted over the last hour, as night began to fall. It was startling to see this cottage here, a dwelling in the midst of such a vast wilderness, bordered by trees that reached into the sky. Thor and the others exchanged a look of wonder. Who could live here, Thor wondered, in this lone house in the midst of this wilderness? It was so unexpected.
"My grandpa doesn't take to most people,” the boy said, turning to them. “Wait here, let me speak to him. Hopefully we'll catch him in a good mood and he’ll let you stay the night here.”
"Thanks,” Thor said, “but we don't need to stay the night here—"
Before he could finish speaking, the boy was gone, entering his grandpa's house.
As they sky grew darker, strange night birds began to make all sorts of noises. Thor leaned back and looked up at the towering trees, reaching into the sky; they climbed so high, he could barely even see the top, and he felt overwhelmed by the immensity of nature here.
There came a sudden shouting from inside the cottage, and Thor looked at the others, shifting uncomfortably, and wondered what to do. On the one hand, he did not want to stay the night here—he wanted to keep moving. Yet he also wanted to meet this old man and find out if he knew anything about the Sword before moving on.
The door slammed open and out came a middle-aged man, ducking his head at the doorway. He was bald, with graying hair on both sides, a big nose, narrow brown eyes and a double chin, and was dressed in robes, frayed, hardly better than rags. He stopped before the group and stared directly at Thor, clearly annoyed.
"What right did you have to press my grandson to bring you here?" he demanded, angry.
"We did not press your grandson to do anything!" Thor protested. "He offered to take us—"
"And how am I supposed to know that you are not of the Empire?" the man pressed, reaching down and gripping the hilt of his sword, resting at his waist.
Thor and the others instinctively reached for their weapons, too, as they did not know exactly how belligerent this man would be.
"Your dress seems to show you're not from here,” the old man said, “but what if it’s all a trick? What if you are spies for the Empire?”
Thor sensed that the best way to deal with this wary old man was through kindness, and he raised his hands innocently and took a step forward.
"Sir, we mean no offense," he said, in as gentle tone as he could muster. "We are not spies of the Empire. We have come here from the Ring. We seek a certain sword which was stolen from our kingdom. We mean you no harm. And if you wish to tell us which direction it was heading, we will be on our way. If you do not, then we shall just leave now, and leave you in peace. In any case, we thank your grandson for his kindness in saving us. We owe him a great debt.”
The man stared Thor up and down earnestly for quite a while, then finally his hand relaxed; he let go of the hilt of his sword, and his face relaxed, too.
"I hear it in your voice," the man said. “That accent. You are indeed of the Ring. It has been years, too many years, since I've been there. A beautiful place. I miss it dearly.”