A Quest of Heroes (Book #1 in the Sorcerer's Ring) by Morgan Rice Read Free Book Online

be able to.
You saw it, didn’t you?”
    “Yes.”
    MacGil pondered this.
    “It scares me when you answer
directly. That is unlike you.”
    Argon stayed silent, and finally
MacGil realized he wouldn’t say anymore.
    “I name my successor today,”
MacGil said. “It feels futile, to name an heir on this day. It strips a king’s
joy from his child’s wedding.”
    “Maybe such joy is meant to be
tempered.”
    “But I have so many years left to
reign,” MacGil pleaded.
    “Perhaps not as many as you
think,” Argon answered.
    MacGil narrowed his eyes at
Argon, wondering. Was it a message?
    But Argon added nothing more.
    “Six children. Which should I
pick?” MacGil asked.
    “Why ask me? You have already
chosen.”
    MacGil looked at him. “You see
much. Yes, I have. But I still want to know what you think.”
    “I think you made a wise choice,”
Argon said. “But remember: a king cannot rule from beyond the grave. Regardless
of who you think you choose, fate has a way of choosing for itself.”
    “Will I live, Argon?” MacGil
asked earnestly, asking the question he had wanted to know since he had
awakened the night before from a horrific nightmare.
    “I dreamt last night of a crow,”
he added. “It came and stole my crown. Then another carried me away. As it did,
I saw my kingdom spread beneath me. It turned black as I went. Barren. A
wasteland.”
    He looked up at Argon, his eyes
watery.
    “Was it a dream? Or something
more?”
    “Dreams are always something
more, aren’t they?” Argon asked.
    MacGil was struck by a sinking
feeling.
    “Where is the danger? Just tell
me this much.”
    Argon stepped close and stared
into his eyes, with such an intensity that MacGil felt as if he were staring
into another realm itself.
    Argon leaned forward, whispered:
    “Always closer than you think.”
     
     

CHAPTER FOUR
     
     
    Thor hid in the straw in the back
of a wagon as it jostled him along the country road. He’d made his way to the
road the night before and had waited patiently until a wagon came along large
enough for him to board without being noticed. It was dark by then, and the
wagon trotted along just slowly enough for him to gain a good running pace and
leap in from behind. He’d landed in the hay, and buried himself inside. Luckily,
the driver had not spotted him. Thor hadn’t known for certain if the wagon was
going to King’s Court, but it was heading in that direction, and a wagon this
size, and with these markings, could be going few other places.
    As Thor rode throughout the
night, he stayed awake for hours, thinking of his encounter with the Sybold.
With Argon. Of his destiny. His former home. His mother. He felt that the
universe had answered him, had told him he had another destiny. He had lay
there, hands clasped behind his head, and stared up at the night sky, visible
through the tattered canvas. He’d watched the universe, so bright, its red
stars so far away. He was exhilarated. For once in his life, he was on a
journey. He did not know where, but he was going. One way or the other, he
would make his way to King’s Court.
    When Thor opened his eyes it was
morning, light flooding in, and he realized he’d drifted off. He sat up
quickly, looking all around, chiding himself for sleeping. He should have been
more vigilant—he was lucky he had not been discovered.
    The cart still moved, but did not
jostle as much. That could only mean one thing: a better road. They must be
close to a city. Thor looked down, and saw how smooth the road was, free of
rocks, of ditches, and lined with fine white shells. His heart beat faster:
they were approaching King’s Court.
    Thor looked out the back of the
cart and was overwhelmed: the immaculate streets were flooded with activity.
Dozens of carts, of all shapes and sizes and carrying all manner of things, filled
the roads. One was laden with furs; another with rugs; still another with
chickens. Amidst them walked hundreds of merchants, some leading