The Weight of Honor by Morgan Rice Read Free Book Online Page B

“Against invasion. Though, with the weak King’s surrender, little good it did us.”
    Alec wondered.
    “And if he hadn’t surrendered?” Alec asked. “Could Ur fend off an attack by sea?”
    Alec shrugged.
    “I am no commander,” he said. “But I know we have ways. We could certainly fend off pirates and raiders. A fleet is another story. But in its thousand-year history, Ur has never fallen—and that tells you something.”
    Distant bells tolled in the air as they continued walking, mingling with the sound of seagulls overhead, circling, squawking. As they pushed through the mobs, Alec found his stomach growling as he smelled all manner of food in the air. His eyes widened as they passed rows of merchant booths, all lined with goods. He saw exotic objects and delicacies he had never laid eyes upon before, and he marveled at this cosmopolitan city life. Everything was faster here, everyone in such a rush, the people bustling so quickly that he could barely take it all in before they passed him by. It made him realize what a small town he had come from.
    Alec stared at a vendor selling the largest red fruits he had ever seen, and he reached into his pocket to buy one—when he felt his shoulder bumped hard from the side.
    He spun to see a large man, older, towering over him, with a black scruffy beard, scowling down. He had a foreign face which Alec could not recognize, and he cursed in a language Alec did not understand. The man then shoved him, sending Alec, to his surprise, flying backwards into a stall, crashing down to the street.
    “There’s no need for that,” Marco said, stepping forward and putting out a hand to stop the man.
    But Alec, normally passive, felt a new sense of rage. It was an unfamiliar feeling, a rage smoldering inside him ever since the death of his family, a rage which needed an outlet. He could not control himself. He jumped to his feet and lunged forward, and, with a strength he didn’t know he had, punched the man in the face, knocking him back, sending him crashing over another stall.
    Alec stood there, amazed that he had knocked down the much bigger man, while Marco stood beside him, wide-eyed, too.
    A commotion erupted in the marketplace as the man’s oafish friends began to run over, while a group of Pandesian soldiers came running over from the other side of the square. Marco looked panicked, and Alec knew they were in a precarious position.
    “This way!” Marco urged, grabbing Alec and yanking him roughly.
    As the oaf gained his feet and the Pandesians closed in, Alec and Marco ran through the streets, Alec following his friend as he navigated this city he knew so well, taking shortcuts, weaving in and out between stalls and making sharp turns down alleyways. Alec could barely keep up with all the sharp zigzags. Yet when he turned and looked over his shoulder, he saw the large group closing in and knew they had a fight on their hands they could not win.
    “Here!” Marco yelled.
    Alec watched Marco jump off the edge of the canal, and without thinking he followed him, expecting to land in water.
    He was surprised, though, not to hear a splash, and to instead find himself landing on a small stone ledge down at the bottom, one he had not detected from above. Marco, breathing hard, knocked four times on an anonymous wood door, built into the stone, beneath the street—and a second later the door opened and Alec and Marco were pulled into the blackness, the door slamming behind them. Before it did, Alec saw men running toward the edge of the canal, questioning, unable to see below as the door closed.
    Alec found himself underground, in a dark, subterranean canal, and he ran, baffled, splashing in water up to his ankles. They twisted and turned, and soon there came sunlight again.
    Alec saw they were in a large stone room, beneath the city streets, sunlight filtering in from grates high above, and he looked over in amazement to see himself surrounded by several boys their age,