Alistair opened her eyes."The magic calls to me, too.I'll join, to bolster the wards."
Gwendolyn's gaze swept the table, her strategic mind weighing the risks."A small company, then.No more than a dozen, to move swiftly and unseen.But Thor..."She turned to him, her voice lowering."Promise me this is a precaution, not a prelude to war.Our son needs his father.The Ring needs its King."
Thorgrin pulled her close, kissing her forehead."Precaution only.We'll seal the breach, hunt the beasts, and return before the festival's embers cool.I swear it."
The council dispersed to prepare, leaving Thorgrin and Gwendolyn alone in the chamber.She traced the runes on his arm, remnants of his druidic trials."You've always been the hero, charging into the storm.But heroes fall, my love.Let others share the burden."
He smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes."I am King because I charged.And I'll return because of you—and Guwayne."
He looked away, lost in thought.
“What is it?What is wrong?Do you think the breach is a one off?Could Reece be right, could this just be one we have discovered by chance because it was near an outpost within a days’ ride of here?”
Thorgrin paused for a couple of beats before looking up into his wife’s eyes.“I don’t know.That is what scares me.I should have known.I should have detected something was wrong, that the Shield was damaged, was weakening.”He pursed his lips.“But that is not what vexed me just then.The people of the Ring have thrived.They have put our troubled past behind them.They look to the future, not the past.”
"That is a good thing, surely?"
Thor did not speak for a while, and when he did, his voice was solemn.
"Yes, but a generation raised without the shadow of war forgets what it is like.Once that fear has gone, we grow lazy.We grow slovenly.We revel in what we have, take it for granted, forgetting that in the blink of an eye, the flash of a sword, it could all be taken away."
“My love, you would never grow lazy or slovenly.”She attempted a smile.“And if you tried, I wouldn’t let you.”
His eyes met hers once more, and he nodded.
“I know,” he said softly.“I know.”
*
Outside, the castle buzzed with activity.Thorgrin oversaw the selections in the armory, choosing trusted soldiers: four from the Silver, veterans of the Blood War, their armor etched with honors; three Legion youths, including Guwayne's friend, Aiden, to blood them in controlled peril; and a scout pair from Kendrick's ranks.Reece handpicked mounts—swift destriers bred for endurance—while Erec inspected weapons, ensuring each blade was keen and each bow strung taut.
Supplies were packed: rations, healing salves from Alistair's herbs, fire arrows to combat the beasts' hides.Kendrick briefed the company on the terrain—dense woods, hidden ravines, the Highland outpost a day's hard ride north.
Gwendolyn watched from the balcony, her expression a mix of worry and resignation.Thorgrin joined her, the suns dipping toward afternoon, casting long shadows over the courtyard.
"This feels like the old days," she said quietly."You riding off to quest, me holding the throne."
He took her hands."But now we have more to lose—and more to fight for.I'll mend the Shield, Gwen.And we'll have many more festivals."
She pulled him into an embrace, whispering, "Come back to me, Thorgrin.Or the Ring will have a queen ruling alone."
“I will,” he said.“I promise.”
They stood like that for several seconds, both knowing all too well that sometimes promises are not enough.
Thor released Gwen and, without looking back, left the chamber.Before he joined his men, there was something he had to do.
CHAPTER THREE
Thorgrin strode through the castle corridors, his boots echoing off the ancient stone floors that had borne the weight of kings and crises for centuries.The air was thick with the scent of oiled leather and polished steel, remnants of the hurried preparations below.Outside, the festival grounds lay abandoned, colorful banners now flapping listlessly in the wind like forgotten promises.The breach had cast a pall over King's Court, transforming joy into vigilance, and Thorgrin felt the shift keenly in his bones.But before he could mount his destrier and ride north, there was one matter he could not leave unresolved: his son.
Guwayne had vanished from the armory after seeing Aiden picked ahead of him for the expedition north, his disappointment evident in the stiff set of his shoulders as he turned away.Thorgrin knew that look all too well—it mirrored his own youthful defiance, the burning need to prove oneself in the fires of action.He had spotted Guwayne heading toward the battlements, a solitary figure against the fading afternoon light.Thorgrin climbed the winding stairs two at a time, his mind racing with words he hoped would bridge the growing chasm between father and heir.
He found Guwayne on the eastern parapet, leaning against the crenellated wall, staring out over the rolling hills that stretched toward the distant Highlands.The boy's—nay, young man's—blond hair whipped in the breeze, and his hand absently toyed with the Sorcerer's Ring on his finger, its runes catching the light like whispers of forgotten spells.Guwayne's training sword lay discarded at his feet, a symbol of his frustration.He did not turn as Thorgrin approached, though Thorgrin knew his son sensed him.The air between them hummed with unspoken tension.
"Guwayne," Thorgrin said softly, coming to stand beside him.The view was breathtaking: vineyards heavy with grapes, orchards blooming in eternal summer, the fruits of fifteen years of peace.Yet now, it all felt fragile, like a tapestry one thread away from unraveling.
Guwayne remained silent, his gray eyes fixed on the horizon.Thorgrin could see the sulk in his posture—the slumped shoulders, the clenched jaw.It was the posture of a boy denied his first taste of true adventure.He also knew it was that of a son overshadowed once more by the legend of his father.
