Firth stared back for a long time, looking back and forth between Gwen and Godfrey, clearly debating.
Then, finally, Firth burst into tears.
“I thought it was what your brother wanted,” he said, crying. “He put me up to getting the poison. That was his first attempt. When it failed, I just thought…well… I just thought I would finish the job for him. I held no ill will against your father. I swear. I’m sorry. I was just trying to please Gareth. He wanted it so badly. When he failed, I couldn’t stand to see it. I’m sorry,” he said, weeping, collapsing on the ground, sitting there, hands on his head.
Godfrey, to Gwen’s surprise, rushed over, grabbed Firth roughly by the shirt, and yanked him to his feet. He held him tight, scowling down at him.
“You little shit,” he said. “I should kill you myself.”
Gwen was surprised to see how angry Godfrey was, especially considering his relationship with their father. Maybe, deep down, Godfrey held stronger feelings for their father than even he realized.
“But I won’t,” Godfrey added. “I want to see Gareth hang first.”
“We promised you a pardon, and you will get one,” Gwen added, “assuming you testify against Gareth. Will you?”
Firth nodded meekly, looking down, avoiding their gaze, still weeping.
“Of course you will,” Godfrey added. “If you don’t, we will kill you ourselves.”
Godfrey dropped Firth, and he collapsed back down to the ground.
“I’m sorry,” he said, over and over. “I’m sorry.”
Gwen looked down at him, disgusted. She felt overwhelmed with sadness, thinking of her father, a noble, gallant man, having to die by this pathetic creature’s hand. The dagger, still in her hand, positively shook, and she wanted to plunge it into Firth’s heart herself.
But she did not. She wrapped it up carefully, and stuck in her waistband. She needed the evidence.
Now they had their witness.
And now it was time to bring down their brother.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Thor stood at the helm of the ship, the sails full, the boat cruising beneath him, and his heart swelled as he saw, on the horizon, his homeland appearing. The Ring. It had been a long journey home, he and the Legion leaving the Isle of Mist in rough waters, fighting their way out to sea, then fighting their way through the rain wall. They had entered the open waters into a thick fog, and fog had enveloped them nearly the entire way home, luckily for them, allowing them to escape detection from the Empire the entire way back.
Now, with the Ring in sight, the two suns broke free, revealing a clear and perfect day. The wind caught, and the sails allowed them all a happy break from rowing. As Thor stood there, Krohn beside him, his bigger and stronger legs braced more sturdily on the wood, he stood taller, straighter, his shoulders broader, his jaw more full, and he stared with his narrow gray eyes at his homeland, his hair blowing in the wind.
In his palm he held the sparkling Orethist stone he’d salvaged from the dragon’s shore. He could feel its power pulsing through him, and he smiled in anticipation as he imagined giving it to Gwen. He had been unable to shake her from this thoughts the entire ride home, and he realized now that she, more than anything else back home, was what mattered to him most, what he looked forward to most. He hoped that she still cared for him. Maybe she had moved on. After all, she was a Royal-she must have been introduced to hundreds of other boys in the meantime. He squeezed the jewel harder, closed his eyes, and silently prayed that she still cared for him even a fraction as much as he did for her.
He opened his eyes and on the horizon spotted the thick wood outlining the shores of the Ring. He breathed. It had been a long hundred days, the longest of his life, and he still could not believe he had survived it. He felt proud to be coming home, proud to have survived, and proud to be a true member of the Legion. He recalled the journey left to take through the woods, across the Canyon, back inside the energy shield of the Ring. He remembered how frightened he had been upon first leaving the Canyon, and marveled at how differently he felt now. He no longer held any fear. After his hundred days of grueling training, of every sort of combat, after facing the Cyclops and most of all, the Dragon, he realized that nothing scared him anymore. He was beginning to feel like a warrior.
Thor heard a familiar screeching noise, and looked up to see Ephistopheles. She was circling high above, following the ship. She swooped down and landed on the ship’s rail, close by. She turned and screeched, looking right at Thor.
Thor was elated to see her, a reminder of home.
Just as quickly, she lifted into the air, flapping her wide wings. He knew he would see her again.
Thor reached down and lay a free hand on the hilt of his new sword. When they had finished the Hundred, before they had boarded the ships to return home, the Legion commanders had given each of the surviving boys a weapon, a token to symbolize that they were now full Legion members. Reese had been given a bejeweled shield; O’Connor, who walked now with a limp, still recovering from the dragon’s blow, had been given a mahogany bow and arrow; Elden had been given a mace with a spiked silver ball-and Thor had been given this sword, its hilt wrapped with the finest silk, bejeweled, its blade sharper and smoother than any he had seen. Holding it in his hand, it felt like air.
As he squeezed its hilt tighter, he felt that he was now part of the Legion, a part of this band of brothers forever. They had gone through things together that no one else would ever understand. Thor looked over his brethren and could see that they looked older, too, stronger, toughened. They all looked like they had been through hell. And they had. He thought of all the brothers they had lost back there, boys they had started out with on this boat and who were not returning; boys who had dropped out along the way from cowardice; and boys who had been killed. It was sobering. Today was a cause for celebration-but it was also a cause for mourning. Not all of them had made it back. The weight of it was carried by all the Legion members, and Thor could detect a more serious, more mature look to them, the youthful giddiness they’d had just months ago gone, replaced with something else. A sense of mortality.
Thor would do anything now for these boys, his real brothers. And they all, since his rescuing them from the dragon, looked at him with a new respect. Maybe, even, with a sense of awe. Even Kolk looked at him differently, with something like respect, and he had not reprimanded him once since.
Finally, Thor felt like he belonged. Whatever enemies he faced on shore no longer scared him. In fact, now, he welcomed combat.
Now, he understood what it meant to be a warrior.
*
Thor rode on horseback with the Legion, Reese on one side of him, O’Connor, Elden and the twins on the other, Krohn following below, all of them walking on the path towards King’s court. He could hardly believe his eyes: before him, stretched as far as the eye could see, stood thousands of people, lining the road, screaming in adulation at their return. They waved banners, tossed candies at them, threw flower petals in their path. Military drums beat with precision, and cymbals and music rang out. It was the grandest parade that Thor had ever seen, and he rode at the center of it, surrounded by all his brothers.
Thor had not expected a return welcome like this. Luckily, there journey back through the Canyon had been uneventful, and he had been shocked as they had crossed the bridge and the hundreds of King’s soldiers had lowered their heads in deference to them. To them, boys. The guards had reached out and lowered their halberds, one at a time, in honor and respect. As Thor had walked through them, he had never felt more accepted, more of a sense of belonging, in his life. It made him feel that every minute of every hardship had been worth it. Here he was, respected by these great men, now a part of their ranks. There was nothing he had ever wanted more in life.