A long, comfortable silence fell between them.
“It’s hard to fathom that in a day you will be so far from here,” she said. “On a ship, on an ocean, in a distant land, under a different sky.”
She sat up and turned and looked to him, fierceness in her eyes.
“Do you promise that you will come back for me?” she asked, with a sudden urgency. He could see how deeply she felt things. But it did not scare him—he was the same way.
He looked at her with equal seriousness.
“I promise,” he answered.
“Vow to me,” she said. “Vow that you will come back. That you will not leave me here. That, no matter what, you will return for me.”
She held out her hands, and Thor took hers, and looked into her eyes with a seriousness to match hers.
“I vow,” he answered. “I will come back for you. No matter what.”
She looked into his eyes for a long time, then leaned in and kissed him. It was a long, passionate kiss, and he reached up and held her cheeks, pulling her close. He tried to ingrain in his memory the feel of her skin, the sound of her voice, the smell of her hair, tied to hold it in his mind so that even in a hundred days, he would not forget it. But his new powers arose within him, and a sixth sense was whispering to him. It was telling him, even in this moment, even at the height of his greatest joy, that something dark would come between them. And that the vow he had just made might cost him his life.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Erec rode from the rising of the first sun to the time the second crossed the sky when the country path widened, gradually became finer, smoother, the rough holes less frequent. Its jagged rocks were replaced by fine pebbles, then these replaced by smooth, white shells, and Erec knew he was, finally, approaching a city. He started to see people pass him on foot, carrying goods and wares, sheltering their heads with wide hats from the summer heat. The road become more and more populated, people passing him in both directions on this glorious summer day, some leading oxen or riding on carts. Judging from the number of days he had ridden, Erec assumed he was nearing Savaria, the stronghold of the South. It was a city famed for its fine women, its strong wine and its magnificent horses, one that Erec had heard much about, but had never had a chance to visit. It was famed, also, for its annual jousting competition, the prize for the winner being the bride of his choice. Women gathered from all over the Ring hoping to be picked, and knights of fame and honor poured in from all the provinces, hoping to win.
Erec figured it would be a good place to begin his Selection year. He did not expect to find his bride here, so soon, but he thought, at the very least, it would keep his jousting skills sharp. Being the king’s hand, the finest knight in the kingdom, Erec had no doubt he could defeat any adversary. It was not hubris, just knowledge of his own skills compared to others. It had been years since he had been defeated by anyone. Whether he could find his bride was a different story.
Erec climbed a hill and as he reached its peak saw, spread out below him, a great city, with castles, parapets, spires, steeples and a brook running before it. It was framed by an ancient wall, as thick as two men. Savaria. It was a beautiful city, quaint, not nearly the size of King’s Court, yet still substantial. It was built low to the ground, its buildings all made of stone, with slate roofs and smoke rising from chimneys. As Erec stopped on his horse, taking in the site, he spotted a lookout, high up on one of the towers, a boy dressed in the red and green colors of the South. The boy jumped to his feet, waved frantically towards Erec, and blew a long trumpet. It was the official greeting of the King’s Guard, and as Erec watched, the metal gate beyond the drawbridge was raised. There was an excited shout, and two horses came galloping out towards him.
It occurred to Erec that members of The Silver rarely journeyed this far South, and that the arrival of one would be hailed as a major event—especially one coming right from King’s Court. And the fact that it was Erec—the most celebrated of all The Silver, and the King’s champion—would create an even greater stir. He could already see, even from here, the excitement in the boy’s eyes, the gathering crowd on the towers, the anticipation in the soldiers galloping out to greet him.
The soldiers pulled to a stop before him, their horses breathing hard, and greeted him with smiles from behind the friendly red beards of the Savarians.
“My Liege,” one of them called out. “A great honor to have you here! We have had no visitors from King’s Court in years.”
“What brings you to us?” asked the other. “Is it the festival?”
“It is,” Erec responded. “It is my Selection Year, and I’m afraid I’ve been too picky.”
The soldiers both laughed in response.
“That I can understand,” one of them said. “I failed to choose by my year, as well, and also failed to find one during my Selection year. Thus I was assigned a bride. I lament it to this day!” he said with a hearty laugh. “Not a day passes when she doesn’t nag me to death, that she does not remind me that I did not choose her!”
Erec laughed.
“My selection year comes up next season,” said the other soldier. “I hope to find someone before then.”
“Well I’ve just begun my journey,” Erec said. “I don’t know that I will find my bride here. But I would like to see your city. And I will join the tournament.”
“Very well, my Liege,” one of them said good-naturedly. “Our Duke will be thrilled at your presence. It would be a great honor if we can accompany you. You must understand that the arrival of the King’s hand is a major event! You will be treated like royalty within our gates!”
Erec laughed.
“I am hardly royalty,” he said, humbly. “I am just another knight.”
“Hardly, my liege,” the other said. “We’ve heard tales of your conquests far and wide.”
“I just perform my duty to the king. Nothing else. But that said, I would be honored for you to accompany me. Let us to the Duke!”
The three of them turned and began trotting down the road, to the looks of wonder of the growing crowd, amassing along the roadway to catch a glimpse of Erec.
As they rode through the massive arched stone gate of Andalusia, Erec was struck by the throngs of people that came out to see him. They rode into the city center, a wide stone plaza, framed by ancient stone walls, and as they did, the Duke rode out to greet him, flanked by a dozen men. Approaching with them were dozens of women, dressed in their finest, standing before Erec, hoping to catch his eye. Each was more beautiful than the next. Erec could hardly believe it. All this attention, just for him. It made him feel more famous than he felt entitled to.