A Quest of Heroes Read Online Free PDF Page B

Western Kingdoms of the Ring.
    While the Ring spanned a good five hundred miles in each direction, it was divided down the middle by a mountain range. The Highlands. On the other side of the Highlands sat the Eastern Kingdom, ruling the other half of the Ring. And this kingdom, ruled for centuries by their rivals, the McClouds, had always tried to shatter its fragile truce with the MacGils. The McClouds were malcontents, unhappy with their lot, convinced their side of the kingdom sat on ground less fertile. They contested the Highlands, too, insisting the entire mountain range was theirs, when at least half of it was the MacGil’s. There were perpetual border skirmishes, and perpetual threats of invasion.
    As MacGil pondered it all, he was annoyed. The McClouds should be happy: they were safe inside the Ring, protected by the Canyon, they sat on choice land, and had nothing to fear. They should just be content with their own half of the Ring. It was only because MacGil had grown his army so strong that, for the first time in history, the McClouds had dared not attack. But MacGil, the wise king he was, sensed something on the horizon; he knew this peace could not last. Thus he had arranged this marriage of his eldest daughter to the eldest prince of the McClouds. And now the day had arrived.
    As he looked down, he saw stretched below him thousands of minions, dressed in brightly colored tunics, filtering in from every corner of the kingdom, from both sides of the Highlands. Nearly the entire Ring, all pouring into his fortifications. His people had prepared for months, commanded to make everything look prosperous, strong. This was not just a day for marriage: it was a day to send a message to the McClouds.
    MacGil surveyed his hundreds of soldiers, lined up strategically along the ramparts, in the streets, along the walls, more soldiers than he could ever need—and felt satisfied. It was the show of strength he wanted. But he also felt on edge: the environment was charged, ripe for a skirmish. He hoped no hotheads, inflamed with drink, rose up on either side. He scanned the jousting fields, the playing fields, and thought of the day to come, filled with games and jousts and all sorts of festivities. They would be charged. The McClouds would surely show up with their own small army, and every joust, every wrestle, every competition, would take on meaning. If one went awry, it could evolve into a battle.
    “My king?”
    He felt a soft hand on his, and turned and saw his queen, Krea, still the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. Happily married his entire reign, she had borne him five children, three of them boys, and had not complained once. Moreover, she had become his most trusted counselor. As the years had passed, he had come to learn that she was wiser than all of his men. Indeed, wiser than he.
    “It is a political day,” she said. “But also our daughter’s wedding. Try to enjoy. It won’t happen twice.”
    “I worried less when I had nothing,” he answered. “Now that we have it all, everything worries me. We are safe. But I don’t feel safe.”
    She looked back at him with compassionate eyes, large and hazel; they looked as if they held the wisdom of the world. Her eyelids drooped, as they always had, looking just a bit sleepy, and were framed by her beautiful, straight brown hair, which fell on both sides of her face, tinged with gray. She had a few more lines, but she hadn’t changed a bit.
    “That’s because you’re not safe,” she said. “No king is safe. There are more spies in our court than you’ll ever care to know. And that is the way of things.”
    She leaned in and kissed him, and smiled.
    “Try to enjoy it,” she said. “It is a wedding after all.”
    With that, she turned and walked off the ramparts.
    He watched her go, then turned and looked back out over his court. She was right; she was always right. He did want to enjoy it. He loved his eldest daughter, and it was a wedding