The Gift of Battle by Morgan Rice

squinted into the sun and saw that they were indeed ones
he recognized: the banners of the Southern Isles. Erec. The greatest knight of
the Silver.
    But what was he
doing here, in Volusia?
    Godfrey’s heart
skipped a beat as it swelled with joy and hope. Erec. Their greatest knight.
Alive. Here. Sailing into Volusia. His throat went dry with excitement. Godfrey
felt a sudden surge of confidence, felt for the first time that they might
actually make it out of here—when suddenly he realized that Erec was sailing
into a dead end. He saw the iron gate up ahead, and he realized at once that
Erec was in danger.
    Godfrey, heart
racing, surveyed the harbor and saw the huge iron crank beside the gate—and he
knew at once that if he did not raise it, Erec and his men, pursued as they
were by the huge Empire fleet behind them, would all soon be trapped. Dead.
    And then something
crazy happened: Godfrey no longer felt fear for himself. It was replaced by a
burning urgency to save his friend. Without thinking, he began to run, through
all the chaos, right for the harbor, and for that crank.
    “Where are you
going?” Silis called out, horrified.
    “To save a
brother!” Godfrey yelled back over his shoulder as he sprinted.
    Godfrey ran and
ran, breathing hard but this time not slowing. He knew that by running like
this in the open courtyard he was exposed, and would likely get killed. For
some strange reason, he no longer cared. Instead, he kept his eyes fixated on
Erec’s ships, on that crank, and remained determined to save them.
    Godfrey was
surprised to hear footsteps, and he turned to see the others running up beside
him, catching up with him.
    Merek smiled
back, equally throwing caution to the wind.
    “You better know
what you’re doing,” he called out.
    Godfrey pointed
straight ahead.
    “Those ships,”
he called out. “Those are Erec’s. We must lift that gate!”
    Godfrey looked
out and saw the Empire fleet closing in on them and he ran faster than all the
others, surprising himself, gasping in one last sprint until he reached the
crank.
    He jumped up,
grabbed its huge handle, and pulled with all his might.
    But it didn’t
budge.
    The others
caught up, and as one they all joined in, Silis and her men, Merek, Ario, and
even Akorth and Fulton, all of them leaning on the massive iron crank and
pulling with all their might. Godfrey strained and groaned beneath its weight,
desperate to free Erec.
    Come on , he prayed.
    Slowly, the
crank, with a great creaking noise, began to budge. It groaned and protested,
but slowly it moved, and as it did, Godfrey saw the iron gate raise an inch.
    They all let go
of their grip, exhausted by the effort.
    “It’s going too
slow,” Ario observed. “We’ll never open it in time.”
    Godfrey looked
over and realized they were right—the crank was just too massive.
    Suddenly, there
came a barking, and Godfrey looked down to see Dray at his feet, a rope in his
mouth, barking frantically. He realized that Dray was trying to tell him
something, and he looked over to see a carriage and several horses, abandoned,
a few feet away. His eyes lit up.
    “You’re a
genius, Dray,” Godfrey said.
    Godfrey burst
into action, looping one end of the rope over the crank, then running over and
looping the other over the carriage. He then grabbed the whip off the back and
whipped the group of horses again and again.
    “RIDE!” Godfrey
yelled.
    The massive war
horses neighed, then reared and took off with all their strength.
    Suddenly, the
crank began to move, again and again, faster and faster, as the horses ran
farther and farther away.
    Godfrey turned
at the sound of groaning metal and was elated to watch the iron gate opening
wide beneath the water. He was thrilled to see Erec’s ships continuing on,
sailing right for it, and finally slipping through the opening, just wide
enough, and into the harbor.
    “STAND BACK!”
Godfrey yelled.
    Godfrey drew his
sword, rushed forward, and hacked the