A Quest of Heroes (Book #1 in the Sorcerer's Ring)

his
caravan hours ago, on court business. They won’t be returning until tonight,
until the royal feast.”
    “Feast?” Thor asked, his heart
thumping. He remembered his dream, the feasting tables, and eerily felt it all
coming to life.
    “Yes, feast. If you are of the
Legion, I am sure you will be there. But now he is gone, and there is no way
you can see him. Come back tonight, with the others.”
    “But I must get him a message!”
Thor insisted. “Before the feast!”
    “You can leave the message with
me if you like. But I can’t deliver it any sooner than you.”
    Thor did not want to leave such a
message with a guard; he realized it would seem crazy. He had to deliver it
himself, tonight, before the feast. He only prayed it would not be too late.
     

CHAPTER
TWENTY SEVEN
     
     
    Thor hurried back to the Legion’s
barracks at the crack of dawn, luckily arriving before the day’s training
began. He was winded when he arrived, Khron at his side, and he ran into the
other boys just as they were waking, beginning to file out for the day’s
assignments. He stood there, gasping, more troubled than ever. He hardly knew
how he would make it through the day’s training; he would be counting down the
minutes until the night’s feast, until he could warn the king. He felt certain
the omen came to him so that he could deliver the warning. The fate of the
kingdom rested on his shoulders.
    Thor ran up beside Reece and
O’Connor as they made their way out to the field, looking exhausted, and began
to line up.
    “Where were you last night?”
Reece asked.
    Thor wished he knew how to
respond—but he didn’t really know where he had been himself. What was he
supposed to say? That he had fallen asleep outside on the ground, on Argon’s
mountain? It made no sense, not even to him.
    “I don’t know,” he answered, not
knowing how much to tell them.
    “What do you mean you don’t
know?” O’Connor asked.
    “I got lost,” Thor said.
    “Lost?”
    “Well you’re lucky you made it
back when you did,” Reece said.
    “If you had come back late for
the day’s assignments, they wouldn’t have let you back into the Legion,” Elden
added, coming up beside them, clapping a beefy hand on his shoulder. “Good to
see you. You were missed yesterday.”
    Thor was still shocked at the
difference in how Elden treated him since their time on the far side of the
Canyon.
    “How did things go with my
sister?” Reece asked, in hushed tones.
    Thor blushed, unsure how to
respond.
    “Did you see her?” Reece prodded.
    “Yes, I did,” he began. “We had a
great time. Although we had to leave abruptly.”
    “Well,” Reece continued, as they
all lined up side-by-side before Kolk and the King’s men, “you will get to see
more of her tonight. Put on your finest. It’s the King’s feast.”
    Thor’s stomach dropped. He
thought of his dream and felt as if destiny were dancing before his eyes—and
that he was helpless, fated to do nothing but just watch it unfold.
    “QUIET!” screamed Kolk, as he
began to pace before the boys.
    Thor stiffened with the others as
they all fell silent.
    Kolk walked slowly up and down
the lines, surveying them all.
    “You had your fun yesterday. Now
it’s back to training. And today, you will learn the ancient art of
ditch-digging.”
    A collective groan rose up among
the boys.
    “SILENCE!” he yelled.
    The boys fell quiet.
    “Ditch-digging is hard work,”
Kolk continued. “But it is important work. You will one day find yourself out
there, protecting our kingdom, in the wilderness, with no one to help you. It
will be freezing, so cold you can’t feel your toes, the black of night, and you
will do anything to keep warm. Or you may find yourself in a battle, in which
you need to take cover, to save yourself from the enemies’ arrows. There may be
a million reasons why you need a ditch. And a ditch may be your best friend.
    “Today,” he continued, clearing
his throat, “you will spend all day digging, until your hands are red with
calluses and your back is breaking, and you can’t take it anymore. Then, on the
day of battle, it will not seem as bad.
    “FOLLOW ME!” Kolk yelled.
    There came another groan of
disappointment as the boys broke down into lines of two, and began marching
across the field, following Kolk.
    “Great,” Elden said.
“Ditch-digging. Exactly how I wanted to spend the day.”
    “Could be worse,” O’Connor said.
“It could be